Beatrice and the Beast
by Raggazzed12
Summary: *A one-brother-didn't-make-it-out story with a different direction than most* Beatrice had never imagined it to come to this. Of all the horrible things to happen, why was it this? Wirt had never intended his life to become permanently situated in the Unknown. His new identity was horrible. Greg had never intended to leave his brother, and now he had to go back for him.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Author's Note: Well, hello all of you fans out there of this wonderful mini-series! I have never written for this topic before, but I am a big fan even though I am new to this fandom! I love all of these characters, but, sadly, standard disclaimers apply, I don't own any of these characters as much as I wish I owned Wirt. So, this is a "one brother didn't get out story" hopefully different than all the other "one brother didn't get out stories" out there, inspired by a picture I saw on Google, and this was the outcome. So, here we go!**

The darkness settled down onto the forest; and people in the land of The Unknown shut their doors and closed windows, in fear of the Beast that was to come out soon. Only one, red headed, freckled girl, remained outside, gathering water at the pump. A noise in the leaves startled her, and she turned to see two eyes, glowing, white eyes, looking at her. She gasped, and heard a voice in her head, her mother's, telling her that she was silly to not love the man she was to marry. Now she had gone outside, in the dark of night, where she knew it was dangerous, and was basically submitting herself to the Beast. She wanted to die.

The Beast moved around her, watching her silently. She knew she wasn't going to be hurt by him, she lived here, she wasn't lost, but she wished she was. She had seen the downfall of the Beast a month before, but it had come back. Or was it the same one? She wanted to know, she wanted to feel, she wanted to hear the Beast, wanting to know who he was.

"Excuse me, sir, the Beast, sir, but, but I was wondering if … who … you were?" she asked, timidly. The Beast stopped moving about. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I was wondering how the Beast was back, since he was defeated years ago."

The Beast did not reply, he merely moved in a circle again. She followed him, not scared, not like she had been at one point in time, she showed no mercy to the Beast as she stared at him. She knew he could see her, she was desperate to find out who he was.

"I will not give up. Listen to my beg, my plea for mercy. I am supposed to marry a man I do not love nor do I appreciate, despite the situation this place is in, people are still forced to marry each other. Take me away from him. Stop him, please, or stop me. End me." she said.

The Beast shook its antlered head, and she stared. Could he not end her? Could he not do that? What was this place? What was The Unknown?

"Please, help me!" she cried, staring at him. "I want to end this all! I cannot deal with it anymore! Please, help me, end me, like you tried to do to those boys a month ago! Why can you not do this?"  
She stared hard and long at the creature's glowing eyes, and realized that the eyes were not terribly far from the ground, this beast was short. But not very short. She glanced around, and holding up the lantern, she began to yell at the Beast, angry and tired.

"Stop telling me you cannot! Help me! Or speak to me! Who are you?!" she yelled, and then waited for a reply that never came. Instead, she heard her name being called by her mother.

"Beatrice! Beatrice, where are you?" was the call, and Beatrice turned to stare at the Beast for a moment, and then threw a block of wood at the creature, and ran inside.

The night brought strange noises along with it, and with that, Beatrice though for sure she heard a voice she had heard once, a voice that was friendly and familiar, yet strangely dark now, and quite terrifying. The morning brought sunlight and birds, despite the nearing cold temperatures. It was almost winter, almost time to hide in the houses for good. Beatrice rose, wiping her eyes, and staring outside at the mist through the window.

No one appeared to be out there, but she still felt that same eerie feeling she had the day before. It was as if the man she was to marry wasn't right or something. And then there was the matter of the Beast. Who was he? Or was it a she? And why was this beast so short compared to the other one? Where had he/she come from? All of these thoughts and more flowed through her head, causing her to not notice that one of her many siblings was calling her name, trying to get her attention.

"Beatrice! Breakfast!" it called, one of her younger brothers.

"Coming!" she called through the door, shoving on her dress and running out the door getting her shoes on.

The mess she saw that was her basic greeting was a daily experience for her, and she smiled as she shoved her red-orange hair on top of her head, getting ready to head outside after breakfast. The rest of her family was already seated at the table downstairs, and she came running to join them. After a quick breakfast, she headed outside to go help with whatever there was needed to be done.

The day passed slowly as she waited out the hours. She planned to meet the Beast again that night and confront him. She had to know who he was, why he was here and back. Everyone in the Unknown had rejoiced for what felt like ages. And then it had happened.

A man had come running through the forest one night, shouting his head off that the Beast was back. Beatrice had stepped outside with her parents at the time, and they had to grab the man by the arms to stop him from running any further. They had to make him sit down and got every part of the story out of him.

He had been chopping wood when a strange figure had appeared and asked him for some of his wood. He had stared at the being, not, at the time, noticing how short and strange it was, and took off. The creature followed him as he ran. All the man could remember seeing when he turned around was the creature's glowing eyes, which scared him more, and he ran faster, trying to escape. When he reached the clearing, he had ended up at Beatrice's house.

Beatrice was thinking about this whole thing all day long, wondering who the Beast had been intending to meet out in the woods. Or why he was even out there. Or who it was that was the Beast. Was the man who it was fully the Beast yet, or was he part man part beast? As she pondered all of this, the day flashed before her eyes. She had luck on her side all day, she didn't have to endure any of the man she had to marry. She didn't even think of his name.

For, when the night arrived, she was ready. She had mentally prepared herself and was ready to pound questions out of the Beast, ready to torture him until she got answers. After dinner, she bounded out the door with her hair flying down behind her as she ran towards the edge of the stream where she had been the night before. She stood silently, waiting for the Beast to appear.

The rustling sound suddenly resounded in her ears. She turned as it went in circles around her, and then saw the glowing white eyes again, staring into hers. Beatrice realized the Beast was the same height as her, and almost stumbled backwards in fright. Why was he the same height as her? Who was he?

"Tell me who you are. I want to know, I need to know, I can't stand here and not know who you are." she demanded. "Now please, if you don't I will be forced to tell the world you are back. Most do not know. Or blow out that lantern you carry."

She stared hard at the lantern the Beast was holding, and the Beast rustled a bit.

"You have to tell me. Please. I want you to end me. I saw what you do to people, I want that, I can't stand my life." she said, tears entering her eyes. She didn't want to break down, but after what man had been promised to her, she couldn't stand being here. "Please, now, end me. I want you to, I really do, and I can't take it anymore."

The Beast shook his head, she could barely see it by the lantern light, and for a moment, she thought she saw a pointy thing on top of the creature's head. He had the strange antlers, or tree parts or whatever they were, but what was this thing? Beatrice moved forward, tears streaming down her face, even though she hated breaking down in front of people. She wanted to be strong, and always aimed to be.

"Please, show me who you are, I will not laugh nor will I tell anyone." she said, staring at the creature. "I promise."

The Beast rustled, and then stepped forward into the lantern light that it held. Beatrice stared, her mouth agape when she saw the creature's body. On his head was a red pointed gnome hat, and as she traveled down the body, she saw a half-concealed (in bark) blue cape. The face wore an expression that she had seen so many times from it, an expression of depression, almost. The eyes no longer had the warm brown that had been there once, instead, they were like lanterns themselves, and the arms and legs were covered in what seemed like a tree with leaves hanging off the end. As she looked up again, she saw that two large branches stuck out from the opposite ends of the head, just like the original Beast had had. The face was partially covered in tree like the rest of the body, and she couldn't see some of the parts of the boy like she originally did. Only one thought flashed through her head. Wirt was the Beast.

**Author's Note: There's chapter one and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Thanks again and please, review, review, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Author's Note: I'm back with another chapter! Thank you to TheDarkMysteriousAuthor for reviewing, yes it was dramatic, and I'm glad you read this story even though you don't know what OtGW is. With that being said, forget all the drama and prepare yourselves for the real world, and a real, true, hard fact. Greg is alone without his brother. And with that, I lead you into his mind. This chapter is from Greg's POV, by the way…**

He sat alone on the hospital bed, staring at the bed where his brother lay, in what the older people were calling a "coma". But Greg knew where his brother really was. He was still stuck in the Unknown. It had been so long, most thought he was dead. Greg was sitting on the same bed where he had been the night they had saved both Wirt and himself. Jason F. sat next to him, croaking a sad song while he stared at Wirt with tears in his eyes, not able to go over and investigate for he couldn't bring himself to it.

And finally, with a sigh, he got off the bed and walked over to the other side of the room, wanting Wirt to be okay. The heart monitor thing was going in those crazy mountains and he could only stare at them, knowing that it meant Wirt was alive. Once he had thought he'd seen Wirt's eyes open, but it had been out of hope. He climbed up into the bed and put his tiny hand on Wirt's arm, shaking him slightly, and he began to talk.

"Wirt, wouldn't you know what we did yesterday? Jason Funderberker and I went out to the forest beyond the house and talked about you. And then Sarah came along and took us home but I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay where you are." he said, sadness touching the edges of his voice, almost in a quavering way. "I wanna know if you'll come back from there. The cloud lady said you wouldn't but then you did and saved me and yourself and then… and then I don't know what happened, but she said the Beast had already…"

Greg stopped, wondering what the lady had said, as he couldn't remember what her words were. Something about Wirt not coming back. But he knew he had, he knew Wirt had, but then he was gone again. Why did it have to be this way? Or was there more to it?

Jason Funderberker croaked and Greg managed a small giggle, but it died as he looked back at his older brother's pale face.

"Come on, Wirt, you have to make it out of there." he said, shaking Wirt again and feeling tears in his eyes.

A woman appeared at the door, his mother, their mother, and she was watching him with tears in her eyes as well. Greg bounced off the bed towards her and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

"Mommy, don't cry. Wirt's gonna make it, I know he can." he said, trying to stop the tears, and as he detached himself from her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards Wirt. "See, Wirt, mommy's here too."

The woman could just barely crack a smile at her son's remark and she stared at Wirt's motionless figure, Greg could see that the tears had cleared up and she was smiling slightly. He knew now that she believed Wirt could make it as much as he did. But all hopes are lost at times, and Greg felt a ball of despair growing in his stomach as he looked out a window.

Maybe things would get better, but he almost couldn't think about that. He didn't know what was going to happen. Or… a small idea slipped into his head, and he looked back at his brother's body. He could try to get back to the Unknown. Greg had no idea if it would work, but he felt like it could. There was a good chance that he couldn't because he didn't know how he had gotten there in the first place. All Greg could remember was that he had been sinking down into water, then he was in the Unknown, and the way he had gotten out of there was by being pulled out by Wirt, as if he had been in the water at the same time he had been in the Unknown.

He didn't know how to get there and save Wirt, though, but now, he knew he had to do this. Wirt was most definitely still there, and he knew it. But how? Greg scratched his head, and then looked at Jason F. to get ideas, but Jason croaked and gave him no clue whatever. He didn't know at all.

"Greg, sweetie, come on, we need to get home." said his mother, touching his arm. "I'll make you dinner."

He nodded, tears welling in his eyes again, and followed his mother out of the hospital and back home. They spent the rest of the evening in silence mostly, Greg didn't even attempt anything, for he was too worried and was also plotting whatever he was going to do. He had ideas popping into his head, but he wasn't sure.

The morning only brought more worrying and plotting. He knew he had to get there, and he knew what the plan he had was, but how he was going to conduct it, he had no idea. It was a school day, so he spent the whole day not focusing on any school work at all. When Greg walked home that afternoon, the girl named Sarah met up with him, she was concerned looking with a side of terror to it.

"Greg, is Wirt okay?" she asked. Greg didn't know how to answer because he didn't know how his brother was doing, since he was still in the Unknown.

"Yes. I think…" he trailed off, dragging Jason Funderberker along with him down the street.

"I want to see him. Can we visit him?" asked Sarah, and he nodded, quite sure that this was allowed.

When they did reach the hospital, Sarah took care of telling the registration desk who they were there to see, and then Greg grabbed her hand and dragged her down the halls to Wirt's room. When they walked in, Greg let go of her and ran to Wirt's bedside, climbing up onto the bed, and grasping his brother's shoulders again, lightly shaking him yet again. When he looked up, he saw that Sarah looked depressed and he looked back down again, not wanting to disturb her.

There wasn't much to say but he did grab Sarah and pull her closer, trying to show her that it was okay to be nearer to Wirt, not just stare at him in sorrow. The idea that was knitting itself together in his brain was taking a while to be put completely together, so quality time with Wirt's unconscious body seemed to help him a good bit, it was a comfort.

Jason F. croaked from next to him, and Sarah took her eyes off of Wirt and looked at him.

"I have to go. Are you staying with him?" she said quietly.

"I-yeah…" he murmured, and she touched him on the arm and left.

Greg moved closer to Wirt, and then lay down next to his brother's warm body. Jason sat down by Greg. As he closed his eyes, Greg knew he was ready to carry out his plan. He fell asleep laying against Wirt, feeling the soft heartbeat that belonged to his brother, feeling comforted beyond anything he had felt in so many days.

**Author's Note: Well, that's chapter two! I hope you have enjoyed it, and hopefully I can get up the next one soon. Also, you guys should check out a new forum called "Over the Garden Wall" created by Pennate Marauder, it's being developed as we speak, and I really suggest checking it out even if it's not quite finished yet, it will be cool and I really suggest checking it out! Thank you for reading, and please, review, review, review!**


	3. Chapter 3

** Author's Note: Well, here I am again! I'm sorry it took so long, I had a lot of stuff I had to do and things… actually most of the time I was just lazy, let's face it, we all get that way. **

**burning ice: Thank you! I am glad you like this fanfic so much (honestly I like writing it just as much) and here's the next chapter!**

**Pennate Marauder: Yeah, it happens all the time. Thank you for reviewing and don't worry, this chapter has much more of a flashback, I mean, it has a real one (or two…) so thank you again, and no problem!  
Oh yeah, don't forget to check out Pennate's OtGW forum known as Over the Garden Wall! It's really cool and there's RP(ing) and will be contests and various other things, just as I said last chapter! Thank you all and here's the chapter!**

Wirt's/The Beast's POV:

As Beatrice stared at him, he looked away, and after she had gotten a long enough look at him, he moved back and stared at her in turn. Sweeping over her body as he had with his eyes for so many nights, wishing she could know but knowing she couldn't. Greg was the only one who knew, and he was gone, back in their world. Wirt had never left. He could remember the goodbye he had ended up having with Beatrice, and then the goodbye with Greg, which had only been a cry in the darkness of the night as Greg slipped from his grasp and he got stuck in the Unknown.

The rest was history. And now Beatrice knew and was aware of it. He wanted her to run away and tell the world. He hated her seeing him this way, he hadn't wanted to ever show her, but she appeared to want to know everything she could about what had happened to him, and now she wanted to die. Wirt knew a lot about dying in the Unknown, and knew that it was impossible for Beatrice to even drown. There were many reasons for this, but mainly because she was already dead and gone, stuck here in the Unknown, a purgatory where Wirt had ended up in after sinking and nearly drowning, and now was still here. He had hit the real world for a minute, enough to drag Greg out, but then he felt himself slipping back into the Unknown.

And so it was. He had grown used to the place by now, but being the new Beast and all, he wasn't too fond of it. It was rather dreadful, actually. Not that he thought about it that way. At the point he had transformed into the Beast, he had been in so much pain.

_Flashback_

_He was standing by the river, and as he stared across at the other side, which was the mill. Then he fell backwards as a headache split his head, and he felt more pain than ever before. Something split from his head as he writhed on the ground, both sides of his head screaming. It was branches, and he felt a few branches grow from his body._

_ He could feel that his hat was still on his head and his cape had holes where there were now branches, and his eyes felt strange, like they were morphing. He reached to feel the branches, feeling his breathing become heavy, the fear driving up his back in shivers. Moaning, he fell backwards, and blacked out from the pain and terror. It was when he woke up that he regretted everything the most. _

_ Wirt was in so much pain, he could hardly move. Struggling to get his body upright, he realized that a lantern was sitting next to him, his lantern, and the one thing that protected his soul. But it had been the previous Beast's duty before him, and now it was his. _

_ He screamed in rage, finding his voice hadn't changed with the transformation. But he had never screamed like this before, found this much anger inside of him. From that day forward, he had anger that never could be satisfied. _

_ End of Flashback._

He winced after this painful memory, and knew Beatrice had seen it. She moved closer, trying to get nearer to him, but he couldn't let her see him any further. He moved back instinctively, scared.

"Wirt?!" she screamed.

He only stared at her.

"I-I don't… I can't…what?" she asked. "How did this happen?!"

Wirt couldn't say anything, he stared at her with his glowing eyes again, hoping to induce fear into her. Then he realized that it was horrible thought that he had just had, the kind the Beast would have had. But his will was turning into the Beast's will, slowly but surely, he was turning into the true nature of the Beast.

"Where is Greg?" was her next question, and he couldn't bear to answer, turning his head away again. "If you don't answer me, I will make you. I need to know, Wirt, I hate seeing you like this, and with everything happening with that horrible man and everything I can't stand it and now this…"

Beatrice started to cry for the second time in front of him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He wanted to answer but didn't want to talk. He knew his voice sounded the same, but he had started talking to himself just to make sure it hadn't changed, scared that it would at some point when he talked to anyone, to himself or another person.

"Answer me, Wirt, now." Beatrice commanded.

"Beatrice, I-"he stuttered, and she interrupted him by coming up and hugging him, despite the tree parts of his body.

"I knew you would answer." she said, her voice muffled by his cape, but he could hear tears in her voice.

But a certain uncomforted feeling started to form inside of him, and he pulled away suddenly, Beatrice was thrown back. Her hurt face told him too much, each tear that fell left a scar in him. He felt horrible, but then the feeling left him as he became cold hearted.

"Why would you do this to me?" she cried, and he stared at the ground.

"Because… I care about you." Wirt said, feeling part of him rebel with each word he said.

"I do too, but I can't…" she trailed off, staring at him, the tears finishing their round, her face blushing red. "Ever since we traveled together, I have had this feeling, even when we were together, I felt like I was… I was closer to you than I had been to any other boy. Now I have to marry this man."

He wanted to help her, but the part of him that denied helping anyone was screaming at him to not do anything. So Wirt stayed silent, remaining where he was. Beatrice didn't move towards him, she looked unsettled, almost scared looking.

"Why won't you come help me? What is it that holds you back?" she said, then caught herself. "It's the Beast, isn't it? You're slowly turning into him, and you're slowly going to his side of life."

Wirt couldn't move, feeling immobilized with fear. He stood there, closed his eyes, and thought of the time when he was told what would happen to him.

_Flashback_

_ He stood at the edge of the pond, looking down into the other side, where the real world was, and thought of how he had been sinking down there. A strange voice in the back of his head told him to move on, to leave. Wirt had been hearing this voice for a while now, as he continued to stand there, as it had been a few days. And that would be the day he left the pond. _

_ He started to move away, slowly, dragging his feet. He didn't really want to go, but it was almost as if he was required to, and he didn't really have anything else to do. A tree rustled near him as he walked, and he stopped, scared of what it might be. _

_ How all of this had happened he did not know, for he had been in the real world for some time before he had ended up back here. Wirt had stared at the pond for a long time because he had been wondering what on earth to do with himself while he had been there. Why he was back there was beyond his comprehension. So now all he could do was stand in fright as a dark shape took form in front of him. _

_ "You came.." said the voice. _

_ "Are you… the Beast? But we…defeated you." Wirt stammered, nearly falling backwards. _

_ "You can't defeat my spirit, as a mere human. But you also must become me." said the smoke-like wisp._

_ "No, I can't, I have to get back to Greg, where is Greg?" _

_ "Greg is in your world, and you are still in ours. You weren't here for a while, though, and I thought I had finally been ended. But you are back, and so I will take you over." said the Beast's cloud._

_ "No, you won't take me away from the world I know, the one I must be in."_

_ "You will. You will also be like me, you will be very much like me, yet slowly. And the true nature of the Beast will take over your body." the smoke said, and then floated into Wirt's arm. _

_ Wirt tried to shake it out, but he couldn't feel anything, and it wouldn't come out, whatever it was. He had no clue why he always ended up like this, but he was scared and wanted to find comfort. And so he turned to the stream he saw going through a small area, and then he saw the mill. He was still here and still stuck in the Unknown. _

_ Flashback ended_

_ So does this chapter_

**Author's Note: Well, that's relieving, I finally got it up here. And that's chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it, thank you for reading, and please, please, please review, review, review, because another chapter will come sooner the more reviews I get! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Finally, I'm back. Sorry for taking so long, I've been doing a lot of other stuff. Oh boy I have a lot of people to acknowledge, so let's get started with that.**

**The Albino Wolf: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I seriously appreciate the compliment! I'm glad this is one of the best you have ever read, I hope this next chapter suits you as well.**

**RCRC36: Thank you as well!**

**shadowstriker55: Thank you and here's the next one you've been waiting for patiently!**

**Cold-heart-Angel23: Thank you, I do agree, it's a different path that hasn't been taken as much. Thank you, I hope I'm doing a good job with writing her, she's a bit difficult at times but I like to challenge myself with difficult to write characters. Sorry for not updating as soon, but here it is! Finally!**

**I apologize once more for being so late, and this chapter won't be very long, but hopefully it will satisfy you! Also the next one will be longer, or so I plan, so don't worry! So here we go! **

Beatrice's POV:

As she stared at him desperately, she saw his eyes fade slightly, as if he were going into some sort of memory. Not wanting to disturb him-for she was feeling much pain at this whole mess- she turned away silently, and looked out into the dark woods. If only she had been there to see the two brothers go. Well, she had, but she should have stayed and watched for one of them in case they… in case something like this had happened. But no, she had to go and save her family, and while that was more important, at least to her, now this had happened, and she was feeling worse every minute she thought about it. Brushing back a bit of red hair, she said, very quietly, and only for the two of them to hear, "I shouldn't have let you leave like that."

Wirt, or more correctly, as she saw it now, the Beast, did not reply at all. He appeared to be thinking something either the same or different, she did not know, but she did know that he was thinking something along the same lines as she was. This was horrible.

Yet was he? With everything that was different about him… he was no longer just a kind boy, the dark and mean, and fiercer, side of the Beast had kicked in. He probably didn't care for her, no matter what he said. She knew the nature of the Beast as well as anyone in the Unknown did, and because the previous one had been so horrible, this one was most likely going to turn out the same. She wondered if there was any way to save him, but most likely, there wasn't. Goodness knows what was going on in his world, in his place. Poor Greg. Lost and alone. She knew the younger boy looked up to Wirt a lot, but now… a silent tear slipped down her face, she still was not facing Wirt, but she could feel more coming and refused to let them start. Beatrice could not give way to emotion in front of someone like Wirt. The poor creature would run away.

Since the ever-threatening fear of having to marry this horrible man, she hadn't wanted to think about what Wirt would say. Now she knew what he would've. What he had said, what the spirit of the Beast had said, proved everything right.

"I don't understand you. You wish to conceal yourself, but you are not fully transformed. There is a way…" she then quit talking, knowing it was hopeless. No more tears went down her face, but she was still feeling the empty hollowness that she had felt for the past 20 minutes.

"I… Beatrice… I don't understand either." Wirt said, and it really was Wirt, she could hear him again, it was his voice. She looked at him, her eyes brightening, hoping the real Wirt was there.

"So you are good? You will recover! I will save you. And I'm sure Greg will try his hardest to as well… from your world."

"I never said that!" he snapped, glaring at her, with his bright yellow eyes. She stumbled backwards, staring at him. She should have known there was still the nasty part of him.

"Fine. Go on your own. Become the Beast. Because you know what?!" Beatrice shrieked, and whirled around, "I don't care!"

With this last sentence, she broke into a sob, tears beginning to stream down her face, and she crashed to the ground. Every last bit of strength she had was gone, and now it was all hopeless. Her red hair was in her face, sticking to it as it became entrapped in her tears. She could only see Wirt standing there, but he wasn't coming any closer. He was standing, completely still, not seeming to care that she was standing there.

"Neither do you, I can tell!" she screamed once more, still furious, and then watched as he seemed to fight internally against his own mind, he was being torn in two, just as she was, one part of her couldn't believe this was Wirt, but the other half of her told her it was, and she needed to help him.

Suddenly the door to the house opened and she saw the Beast disappear behind a tree. Her mother came out, looking desperate, and when she saw Beatrice on the ground, she ran over to her. Beatrice was still sobbing, and felt her mother's gentle hands on her shoulders. Looking up through tears, she grasped her mother's right hand, and with one last look behind her, pulled herself up and walked into the house, leaning on her mother's left shoulder.

When they got inside, her mother looked at her gently, and seemed to be, not ready to punish her, but to comfort her.

"Whatever it is, my dear, please, take off your clothes up in your room and get to bed. You need it." she said. Beatrice, since her normal teenage ignorance was forgotten, didn't glare, only nodded slightly, tears still going down her face.

Running up the stairs, she made her way to her room, and locked the door. She then got undressed, shoved on a robe, and after extinguishing the lamp, crawled hurriedly into bed. She hardly felt the need to go to sleep, but Beatrice couldn't help it. Her exhausted body and desperate mind couldn't handle much more.

The morning sunlight flooded her eyes alarmingly when she awoke. Beatrice could hear a bird singing outside the window, and for a few moments, she forgot everything that had happened the previous night and felt joy flood her. Then the bird reminded her of the time she had been one herself, and then she remembered Wirt.

Sitting up suddenly, she found that she had kicked off all the sheets in some apparent dream, and her robe had become untied. Rushing to the dresser, she grabbed a dress and began to get changed and once she was finished, ran downstairs. Maybe Wirt would be out there, so she could get him home. But looking out the window, her hope died as she remembered his form from last night.

After sitting down at the table and grabbing some food, and eating it slowly, she began to let her mind wander. There was no telling what that horrible man that she was apparently being forced to marry was going to do today. If he came around, she would surely burst into tears again. Unless she could convince someone she didn't want him-which, as her mother had made clear, there was no doing-she was going to be forced to hear him prattle on about nothing.

Beatrice walked outside, looking around at the beautiful, cloudless sky, and breathed in the air. Her mind cleared, and if she could keep it like that, this day would be perfect.

**A/N: Alright, well, I hope I get the next chapter up as soon as possible! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Once again, please, review, review, review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm back! **

**Shadowstriker55: It was, wasn't it? Well, sadly it still is in a way, but the pace will pick up as soon as I have all the characters in their places on the board. Also about the free time… hahahaha! I waited until summer was completely gone! Oh I'm such an evil person…**

**Cold-heart-Angel23: Here's your update, not soon but it's finally here, and thank you for reviewing! **

** h: Thank you! We all hope they can… including me. That is probably not the best sign ;)**

**Ghost Robot: THANK YOU!**

**OMAC0001: THANK YOU AS WELL! I can't wait to see how it turns out either!**

**Rumicwarrior22: Well here I am, continuing this. I really am glad I am as well… and I promise the next update will come soon!**

**If you'd also like to know, I read all of the reviews and it pained me that I was either in the wrong place to type this or feeling lazy that day or something, and I kept promising myself this would happen. Finally, it has.**

**I'm so sorry for leaving you all and taking a nice long vacation I am updating now and tonight and immediately to appease all of your beautiful reviews, and I really am sorry for leaving you all so long!-and I mean to make this one longer. This is also to prove I never gave up on this story, I just didn't know where to go after this... so I do now!**

Greg's POV:

When he awoke, he was staring out a window, still next to Wirt. _"Maybe he's awake" _was the first fragment of thought that flashed across the young boy's mind, but then he looked at Wirt, and saw that he was not. The feeling of hope left him, and so did the comfort he had felt for such a short time was gone.

He somehow knew he had to get into the Unknown now, but how was the real question. After climbing off the bed and untangling Jason Funderberker from the end of the bed where he had gotten under the sheets, Greg left his brother. He didn't like doing it but he knew he just had to find a way into The Unknown again to save Wirt. Where this idea had come from, Greg himself wasn't altogether sure but he knew he had to do it.

After making his way down to the graveyard and standing amidst the graves for a few moments, Greg turned around in a full circle and came to a stop, facing Jason Funderberker.

"What will we ever do now, Jason?" He asked, and the frog croaked in reply. "Aw, you're just a big ol' softie really. But I really do wanna get back to Wirt. We need to get into that old forest again."

He had picked up the frog now and was walking towards the wall where they had fallen over so many nights ago and begun their journey in the forest. The memories had come back to Greg at one point and he now fully remembered everything that had happened before, during, and now was living, in the after, of their experience. Wirt might've called it something different than what Greg was calling this experience, since he was so much older and knew more. But Greg was content with calling it "The Book Experience" where they had gone through the beginning, the middle, and now were drawing towards the end.

Or so Greg had thought after he'd recovered, but now he knew, they were nowhere near the end. He still had to get back to Wirt.

Jason croaked loudly in protest as Greg tried to get over the wall and couldn't manage to hoist himself up. After trying on a tree and a rock, Greg realized it was going to be impossible to get over the wall, and anyways, he would just end up drowning again, if that was what had happened last time. Surely there was an easier way? And he just wasn't figuring it out because he didn't know any better?

Greg wasn't one to admit defeat, and he wasn't giving up now. He had to figure this out, and so he left the graveyard in a heat, trying to brainstorm something as fast as he could. Nothing he thought of seemed to work. If he tried to enter in a dream, it would be a dream not real life. If he tried to get over that wall, what would be waiting on the other side?

When he reached home, he walked up the front steps and opened the door, announcing to the whole house that "I AM HOME!" and then promptly running up to his room to sit and think without anyone disturbing him. Jason Funderberker began hopping around the room when Greg set him down, and while Greg didn't really mind, he didn't know why his ol' frog was so bouncy all of a sudden. Surely Jason Funderberker knew they needed to save Wirt. Otherwise … but wait! Greg suddenly realized that maybe Jason Funderberker agreed that going back over the wall would get them to the Unknown… but it also might land them in more trouble, countered the other half of Greg's brain.

So it remained that Greg sat there for a little over an hour, thinking about how he should help save Wirt by going over the wall again, and wondering how it would be possible.

"Croak!" Said Jason Funderberker, seated now on Greg's lap.

"Alright, Jason, we will go over that wall again! I just don't know what to tell everyone here…" Greg had thought about this part too, but no reasonable explanation came to mind, because he felt like leaving a note wouldn't help. But then again, anything helped.

Climbing off the bed and running across the floor to his little desk, Greg pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a little note to his parents, thinking that this would clear things up completely.

'"I have gone to save Wirt. Be back soon.'"

With that he gathered up several pairs of shirts and overalls in a small bag, grabbed Jason Funderberker, and ran down the staircase and out of the house without a moment's break except to drop the note off in the kitchen. No one seemed to be home now so Greg could just leave the note wherever, he knew they would find it.

With that last thought, Greg made off for the graveyard once more, clutching Jason Funderberker in his arms as he ran there. He had no idea how to get in, but he did know what to do now. Greg figured that was a good thing.

The minute he reached the wall, he looked around for something else to stand on. It was then that he saw the hole in the wall, he facepalmed lightly.

"Jason Funderberker, look!" He pointed at the wall, holding Jason up to see it.

The frog croaked in reply, and Greg took that to be a definite reply. He walked on over to the hole, and slipped underneath and through it, with Jason in tow. It was then that he saw the lake. It was the same one he and Wirt had fallen in, and the one their bodies had come through again. Now he just needed to find some type of portal… Greg looked down into the water, he stared hard and long, but saw nothing. If there had been a portal, how had it worked? He didn't have a real desire to go down again but Greg was beginning to feel like he needed to, in order to reach Wirt. If he could do it without going into the cold water, it would be even better, and he could tell Jason agreed, because he was squirming to get out of Greg's grip.

"Jason, if we go into it again, maybe we'll find Wirt! But what happens if we don't and end up in some other place?" His voice was full of fear suddenly with the realization that it may have a portal leading to somewhere else. Greg wasn't one to think about what would happen if his parents found him in the water again, it had slipped his mind with the thought of finding Wirt.

Slowly, he walked to the water's edge and dipped his toes in, feeling the cold water soak into his feet. Coming up to the edge gave a different perspective, and he saw that maybe indeed there was a forest below in the water. As he walked slowly down into the water, it was as if he was going back into time, remembering the sound of the train from the tracks above and Wirt and him jumping off into the water... Greg stepped in with more confidence. Whatever was there, he would find it. Soon he was completely under, holding his breath for a mere moment. He began to lose consciousness and while that was part of what he had hoped for, he suddenly felt very, very wrong. This wouldn't work, and now he was sure of it.

Thrashing his arms about, Greg tried to move up and out of the water to air, but found he was weighed down by Jason Funderberker who'd ended up still in his arms below the surface. Yet he still couldn't get up, and he wasn't going to let Jason go. His vision was going black. Even as young as he was, Greg knew this was not a good thing. His body sank lower and lower, his mind going blank. A sudden current caught him as he floated downwards, seeing nothing and hearing nothing, his body shutting down. Jason, being a frog, wasn't drowning but was becoming increasingly concerned about his owner as they sank.

The current took the boy and sent him upstream, even if that was impossible in a pond such as this. Then, everything was bright, as he opened his eyes. Greg stared wildly about him, thrashing once more, thinking he was underwater, but then saw the sky above him, and heard the noises of birds. He was still floating, and now was going down a stream. Jason croaked from on top of him, he was on Greg's chest, somehow not weighing the boy down, and Greg grinned.

"Jason, where are we? Did we make it?" In reply, the frog hopped off onto the solid ground next to Greg, who immediately climbed out of the water.

Slowly he looked around, his eyes growing wide. It was indeed the forest he'd been in before, it was the same path that was cutting through it at one end, near the stream. Looking down the stream, Greg saw a mill. It was the Unknown, and he'd been carried directly to the old woodsman's mill. Greg smiled widely now, and looking at his frog, he set off towards the mill. He remembered the time the dog had attacked him and Wirt and how much candy he'd thrown at the bewildered beast. Then he remembered _The _Beast. Shuddering, he quickened his pace, suddenly noticing that it was growing dark.

Lights turned on in the millhouse before he arrived, and though he heard nothing from inside, Greg knew someone was there. Slowly and carefully, he approached the front door, and with all of his courage, he knocked loudly. It was minutes before someone answered it, and that someone was the Woodsman. First the man looked above him, but when he looked down to see Greg standing there, his eyes widened with shock and he stared at the young boy.

"What are you doing here once more?" He gasped, five minutes later. Greg shrugged.

"I came to find Wirt and bring him home."

"What made you come back for him, boy? Do you know what comes after dark?"

"But nothing can, the Beast doesn't exist anymore." Greg furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at the old man in puzzlement.

"If only, boy, if only. Come in, we were just sitting down to dinner."

Greg followed the Woodsman into the house, noting that some new things had been put into place but didn't think much of them. A dinner table had been set down, and two plates were at two chairs, and a girl was coming in with a large pot of what looked like soup. When she saw Greg with the Woodsman, she stopped and stared at him, and Greg stared back. Jason croaked.

"This is my daughter, Anna. Anna, this is the wee boy I told you about who accompanied his brother a few months back on that quest. Er, what was your name again, boy?" The Woodsman looked down at him again.

"Greg. And this is Jason Funderberker." Greg held up the frog for them to see.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Greg, and... Jason." The girl replied. She looked to be at least a young woman, maybe Beatrice's age.

"Get young Greg here a plate. We have a bit of explaining to do before bed tonight."

Greg sat down at the chair she offered him and after a plate was set down in front of him full of food, the Woodsman started talking almost immediately. Greg payed thorough attention, if this was about Wirt, he wanted to know all the details.

"Greg, your brother... he is still here, at least to my knowledge. But also to my knowledge... something horrible has happened to that boy. I can almost not speak of it, for I know of it very well. See, we did destroy the Beast, but only his shell. The Beast in truth is an ancient force that can flit about freely until it finds someone to ... live in. The Beast came back for your brother, Greg. He took over that poor boy's soul. Or still is, from what I've heard. He's progressed slowly. You have a strong brother. But he will not win the battle. You coming back here is pointless, Greg." The Woodsman explained this carefully, yet when Greg heard of what had happened to Wirt, he stared for a few minutes in wonder.

"I can save him, I know I can." Was all he said after a moment of silence. The Woodsman shook his head.

"You would not be able to. Even I failed to reason with him."

"But father, remember, you only talked to him once." Anna gently prodded him, but he only gave her a stern look.

"So I did. It was a mistake of mine, especially after he began to demand for me to supply him. He was, at that time, still mostly your brother, very little of him was the Beast, but now I suppose he has taken over most of him."

Greg still was convinced he could save Wirt. If there was still Wirt in him, then Greg could get him back. He had to, anyways, their parents would never forgive him if he couldn't do what he had set out to do. The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, and afterwards, the Woodsman directed him to a bed and told him that they would have breakfast early the next morning, and if he wanted to set out, they would supply him with a few things. Greg normally wasn't used to this much freedom, he wasn't sure he could find his way through the Unknown alone without anyone to help him, but he had to.

Sleep wasn't easy, images of Wirt as the Beast from his imagination kept him up a good bit until he reminded himself he was going to get the Beast out of Wirt. Greg had no trouble sleeping after that and was actually hard to wake up. Once he did, though, he was fed a good amount of breakfast from Anna and the Woodsman and given the supplies needed to make it to the next house he could find, where ever that was. Greg thanked them and set off with Jason Funderberker following him. Greg was glad he had remembered his manners, it would definitely serve him well later on if he had to deal with the Beast again, and he was quite sure of that. It would also help with Wirt, because then he could correct him if he needed it. Greg had no idea who he'd run into next, and neither did the person who did.

**A/N: Whew... well, I suppose that's that, for this chapter. Maybe a bit rushed but hopefully it didn't feel too filler, and yes, the name of the Woodsman's daughter is apparently officially Anna, okay? Deal with it. I did that just because. Writing Greg drowning is not as easy as some may think... So anyways, that was chapter five, I think I'll start the next chapter after finishing writing this note, and then hopefully I'll get that one up sooner than this one. Thank you for reading as always, and please, reveiw, review, review! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Aaand I'm back! Yay! **

**FloratheToyKitten: Thank you! I will try my hardest, I really am! **

**Cold-heart-Angel23: Thank you! Aha… you shall see… in this chapter… *wink, wink***

**Shadowstriker55: Yep. I am evil Thank you for reviewing, and here's your update.**

**Rumicwarrior22: Aw, thank you! Yeah… true… I have something to say about the whole Greg reaction thing, and I don't mean anything by it, not to offend you, I just had this idea one day: Greg is young, and I'm not trying to dumb him down or anything but as we all know, he's a very young character with less experience in the world, thus I figured his reaction to Wirt being the Beast would be a little less… frightened, until he meets him in person. I just went along with how the character is, but true, maybe he could have used a bit more reaction time.. well thanks for the review anyways! **

**Rinxlenfan4ever: Well here's more!**

**BeatriceTheBird: Thank you! (I agree, Frozen needs to leave.) Well thank you again!**

**Beanbun: Thank you so much! I'm glad to make someone fangirl, I enjoy it myself… a lot… but thank you and yes, I shall continue! Here's your next chapter!**

**So yeah. We know where the last chapter left off at, and I'm guessing we can all figure out who he's going to run into next... it would be great irony if it wasn't anyone we all suspect, including myself... hmm... oh well, here it goes! This will be the first time I combine points of view, so Beatrice will start us off, then it goes to Greg, then most likely back again. **

** Beatrice's POV:**

One step away from finishing her days chores. That's all she could think as she folded the horrid laundry. It was an activity she'd never enjoyed doing, and thus, hated it even more when James was standing above her winking at her every time she looked up. Just because her parents wanted her to marry him, didn't mean she wanted to, as she'd made clear. It had been two days since her encounter with Wirt and she was still shook up about it. Her mind couldn't adjust to it, the idea of him even being like that, so it was going to be a long time before she accepted it and went on with life. People didn't like the Beast, she never had either, not that she'd needed to fear it, he wasn't going to take her, but now it was harder to hate him.

Finally she could stand up, and after doing so, she glanced up at James with a glare.

"What is it now? I can't even do the laundry without you watching me?"

"No, honey, it is merely to see your beautiful face looking up at me!" He replied. It was without a sarcastic tone that he said this, and she hated that.

"Then may I please just go in peace homewards?"

"Of course, but remember, we have a date tomorrow."

If only she couldn't. Sighing, she left him and walked off towards the house, watching a bird fly across the sky and remembering the feeling of wind in her own wings, when she'd been free. Free to make her own choices because her family was incapable of it, seemingly, she being the oldest had the most freedom. Now she seemed to have the least once more, just like it had been before they had become birds. She wondered if anyone was left that would befriend her, since Wirt seemed to be ruled out now. He hadn't even seemed sympathetic when he'd left her. It hurt her to think of him, and Beatrice shut her eyes to get the images of him out of her mind.

The front door was open for some reason, probably her mother trying to get air into the house, and Beatrice walked in, eager to get inside. She was planning on going back out tonight, hoping Wirt would be around. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind.

Soon it indeed was dark, and she had eaten little despite her mother's warnings that starving herself wouldn't do anything. She'd ignored them and stared out the window the entire time, secretly hoping to see the lantern Wirt carried floating nearby. The cool wind caused her to shiver in her shawl, but Beatrice stood by the well, now quite firm in her ground. This confrontation would not be as weak and sad as the last one, she was determined not to break down this time.

The darkness was thick, and though she felt a bit of fear, out here waiting for the Beast to appear, she held it back and refused to think like that, if he saw it, he'd probably try and attack her or something. It was weird to think of Wirt attacking anyone, but this wasn't exactly Wirt she was dealing with. No, this was Wirt mixed with the Beast, which meant he was more independent than ever.

It was then that the creaking sounds reached her ears, the sounds of a tree like thing, and a light moving towards the lantern light she had. Looking at the far edges, she saw a dark shadow of one with antlers and a hat; The Beast was here. He was holding his own lantern, but down at his side. Slowly, she lifted the lamplight to look up at his face, which was more covered now and the eyes were glowing multicolored now. He had a grim smile on his face, more of a smirk, but a sad one. The sudden muffled noises of someone trying to talk also reached her ears, and lowering the light to where she heard it from, she stood shocked. The person on the ground who was sitting there looked back up at her and obviously was shocked too, as he stopped moaning for a moment until he started thrashing about wildly again. She looked up at Wirt in horror, then back at the figure on the ground.

"Greg?!"

**Greg's POV:**

(A few hours before)

Greg had managed to get himself lost countless times on the road in the past few hours. He wasn't sure what time it was but he was pretty sure the sun was bound to go down soon. Maybe he'd find Wirt then, he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he'd already eaten a bit of the food in his pack, and Jason Funderberker had caught a few flies. The frog seemed content to be hopping along beside him, but Greg had to chase him several times to get him back when he went off on his own.

So the day had passed, walking, walking, and more walking, without anything coming in sight, and nothing looked familiar. At times he thought he recognized a few things, but most of the time he didn't know where he was going at all. It was a different road than they'd taken the last time, the Woodsman had been helpful in pointing it out and Greg had taken his advice.

The boy sat himself down on a log around 5:00 in the evening. The sun was slowly setting, seeing as it seemed to be nearing winter, and Greg was wondering when he would find a place to stop and rest or if he would have to sleep outside. They'd done it a few times when they'd been here last- when he'd been here last.

Jason croaked sleepily, but Greg wasn't feeling sleepy at all. No, he was feeling alert. He wondered if he would see his brother tonight. Being, apparently, the Beast and all, meant he was a night creature, as Greg called it. He would be out and about when the sun set, and that was when Greg planned on finding him. The memories of everyone they met being scared of the Beast at night was the one thing that Greg could really recall, yet he felt no fear, he knew it was his brother.

As he sat there, the sun fell below the horizon, and darkness unlike any at home settled in, it was the darkness of the Unknown when the sun has set. He shivered slightly but stayed where he was. Maybe Wirt would sense his presence, he wasn't sure, but he recalled Beatrice saying something about that once when they had been out and about, that the Beast could do that. So he sat and waited.

Not long afterwards, the sounds of rustling in the trees came to him, and he pulled Jason close, staring into the dark of the night, wondering who it could be. A shadow stepped out in front of him, a shadow darker than the night itself, the Beast, but it wasn't like the Beast he remembered. This one had a tall pointy thing on top of his head, the antlers sticking out near it, and he could hear the sound of a cloak swishing around. It was Wirt, he was certain of it. He heard a gasp come from the figure in front of him.

"Wirt?" He asked aloud tentatively, hugging Jason close.

"What are you doing out here, wandering soul?" That was not his brother's voice, but it was a voice that sent shivers up Greg's spine. It was the Beast talking, not Wirt.

"Wirt, I came to save you!" He smiled weakly.

"G-Greg?" It was Wirt! Greg grinned widely at hearing his brother's voice; so he was there! He was overjoyed at finally hearing that voice after months.

"Wirt, it's me! I came to save you!" Greg exclaimed.

"Greg…" Wirt's voice was cracking, though Greg didn't know why he'd be sad, "Greg,

You can't… save me."

"Yes I can! I don't care what the Woodsman said about you, I believe in you, Wirt."

"The foolish Woodsman should not have said anything." The Beast spoke.

"Wirt, you're there…"

"Silence!" The cold voice called. Greg trembled at it, looking up at his brother through the darkness, unable to see anything but those bright, white eyes that sometimes were ringed with insane neon colors.

Suddenly a strong branch lashed out, wrapping around his mouth, and Greg was silenced. Slowly the figure moved in front of him, but Greg was unable to see him because he had no light. His hands were being pulled behind his back, but he had Jason, he wouldn't let Jason Funderberker go, no! After the cold fingers that had been trying to tie his own hands stopped attempting to do this, Greg found his hand placed in the older boy's hand, but he was filled with terror at the feeling of the treelike hand. His mouth was still covered with the strange feeling wood of the branch.

They began to walk, and they walked until Greg felt that he could no longer feel his feet. Strange it was that Wirt carried no lantern, maybe he'd left it somewhere, as Greg remembered it being terribly important to the Beast in other times. Indeed, unbeknownst to him, Wirt had trusted a certain spot with the lantern, near Beatrice's house, actually. He was returning there tonight to pick it up.

Soon they arrived at that exact place. Greg didn't know where he was anymore, but as the Beast picked up the lantern from its spot, Greg got his first view of his brother. He made a muffled cry as he saw Wirt, who was worse than Greg had ever imagined. Fear had increasingly been mounting up in him, all the time they had walked, but now Greg felt as if he were being filled with it to the brink. As he did this, another figure appeared at the corner of his eyes, and Greg turned to face it. His heart thumped louder than it had before, which was so loud that he was surprised no one heard it, as Greg had remained terrified the entire time. It was a woman, a girl really, with red hair, something in her manner reminded him of someone. It was then that she spoke.

"Greg?" Beatrice asked.

**Beatrice's POV: **

The boy gave a muffled shout. Wirt shushed him quickly, then looked at her.

"Why would you tie him up like this? Wirt, he's your own brother!" She asked, outraged.

"He is a wandering soul." The Beast replied, and Beatrice stared hard at him.

"I'm about to knock some sense into you, Beast. Get it into your head. Why is he here in the first place?"

"I…I don't know." This time it was Wirt, and he sounded scared and uncertain.

"Mmmmm mm!" said Greg, muffled still.

"Let him speak." She commanded Wirt, and for once, he obeyed and let the tree branch move from Greg's mouth.

"I came to save Wirt!" Greg squeaked, his face lighting up.

"But how did you get here?" She asked, still astounded.

"I went into the pond and the current carried me here."

"Ponds don't have currents."

"I was carried by it." He replied, so desperately that she wanted to give him a hug. A boy his age shouldn't have to experience this, nor be here once, and especially not twice.

"I need to get him away from me." Wirt sounded desperate as well, but in a different way.

"And you came to me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Beatrice?" The young boy was looking at her now, in astonishment.

"Yes, that's me, Greg. Just… not a bird anymore." She smiled softly.

"Oh. That would be a good reason that explains why I didn't know who you were at first."

She sighed and looked back up at The Beast/Wirt, who wore a weary look on his face. It was with pain that he was bringing Greg to her, obviously the Beast side wanted the younger boy dead, but Wirt was holding on and trying to keep himself sane just to hand Greg over before he attacked. Beatrice could read it in his eyes, in his movements, he was fighting so hard…

"Alright… I can take him. But I have yet to figure out how or why exactly he's here. You… you're going to need to stay away for a while." Though it pained her to sentence Wirt from Greg, from her- wait why was she worried about Wirt being away from _her_?- she knew it was for the best. The older boy clearly wanted it that way.

"Thank you, Beatrice." Wirt sounded relieved, but a grimace of pain went across his face suddenly, "You need to take him and leave, _now_."

Running over to Greg and picking him up, Beatrice threw one last look at the creature with the lantern before going into the house. Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. The Beast had been about to win over Wirt's conscience. Greg looked up at her with such a sad face that her heart seemed to shatter into pieces. She was sorry for having to take him away from his brother, but she knew it was for the best. Greg didn't seem to understand and was holding his frog close to him.

"Come along, Greg, I'm going to take you up to my room. We need to talk about a few things." She pulled his hand gently, and he followed willingly, allowing her to guide him up the stairs and into her room.

When they arrived, she pulled him onto the bed. Pulling a chair to sit in front of him, she looked at him softly. He seemed to be trying to ignore her for the moment.

"Greg?"

"Hmm?" He replied, still not looking her in the eyes.

"You… you did come back to save your brother, didn't you?"

He nodded. She sighed and reached out to rub his knee.

"It'll be okay. He'll be fine."  
"No he won't."

"I guess I shouldn't try to hide the truth from you, should I?" It was with a deep sigh that she said this, realizing exactly how to approach the boy. She had to continue the way she had before. "You're … right, Greg. He won't be. Not unless we do something about it, and I'm ready to do something about it."

"I am too!" He said, but without that normal happiness that she knew Greg for.

"Well good. Now we just need to find a way to get to Wirt…"

Sighing, she looked at the ground. His heart was still thumping hard, she could tell, and she could also tell he was calming down slightly now; but he was still scared, very scared. No doubt seeing his brother like that was worse than he'd thought, or expected. It was worse than Beatrice had thought or expected. Now they could only get to Wirt during the night…

"Well, I suppose we ought to wait until morning to do anything. You can sleep in my bed, if you'd like, Greg. I'll move to the floor." Beatrice had always been taught to treat guests kindly and give them first serve, but was surprised when he shook his head.

"I'll sleep on the floor. Jason Funderberker won't be happy if I sleep on a different bed than normal." He shook his head slowly, finally raising his eyes to look at her, and they were filled with tears. Her gut twisted, she felt horrible for not being able to help him now.

"Okay, if that's what you want, Greg."

After attaining sheets and an extra pillow, Beatrice set up the bed on the floor for Greg and changed into her night gown in a different room before climbing into her own. Lying there in her bed, she listened to Greg muttering to his frog softly, no doubt telling Jason all about the plans he had, or how sad he was over his brother. A small sliver of hatred stabbed into her heart when she thought of Wirt and what he had done to himself, what the Beast had done. It was obviously the Beast's fault but if she had known any better it was that Wirt was giving in more than he should at this point. He was becoming the Beast.

**A/N: Yay! Okay, well, that was chapter six! It may have seemed a bit shorter than the last one, but the next one will probably be long as well. I also hope it didn't seem too rushed, I think it went along at a good pace but that is merely just the author speaking in my mind, the story needs to keep flowing, thus it shall. Also if the reactions weren't quite what you expected or wanted… wait until the Beast is further in control and we're farther in. Then you'll get your reactions from our lovely characters. (hehehehe) Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and please, review, review, review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Whew! I'm back! Here I am! Sorry for leaving for so long!**  
** Ghost Robot: Well thank you very much! Thanks for reviewing!**

** Sankhya-kid: Thank you for reviewing, and I am definitely going to follow this story to the end!**

** Rumicwarrior22: Thank you so much! And to answer your other question….this chapter is some Wirt for you. So there you go. **

** Cold-heart-Angel23: Yes, I agree, it certainly was. Thank you! Here is your update! **

** Okay sometimes I honestly feel like I just agree with you people to agree with you and say something… but no really I do agree with you I just like to rant on. Well anyways, here we go!**

**The Beast/Wirt's POV: **

Shocked and scared was all he could think when he'd seen Greg. Well, when he'd managed to get control of his own mind briefly with Greg. The Beast had gnawed at his thoughts slowly while he'd kept himself in check somehow. Beatrice had been willing to take Greg, and for that he was especially grateful. That night, he had only intended grabbing his lantern from her house and moving on, but something about it all caused him to stand outside the house for more than he needed to. An hour passed and the creature remained unmoving.

At half past 9, The Beast rustled in his place, moving one foot then the other. Turning away, he did not glance back at the house but pushed throw the trees on the opposite side, his tall thin figure moving between branches like a piece of grass between two boulders, and his lantern lighting up the way; the Woodsman had refueled it him more than a few days earlier that week and now, now he was ready. Ready to preform work throughout the Unknown in the dark, ready to fulfill what he needed to, ready to capture long lost souls. The Beast moved onwards, not caring just yet for the soul that wandered among the others yet. He would have uses for the boy soon enough.

_FB_

_ Slowly he had moved on the first night to the comfort of the trees, drawn in by their majesty, only wanting to hide in the dark. No one could see him like this. Wirt didn't want to be found out about, not when everyone in the land believed the Beast gone. He couldn't bear what had happened to him, and before he bothered that Woodsman again, he wouldn't even dare. He couldn't. Wirt remembered the way the man had acted. _

_ Sitting amongst the trees, he observed his surroundings. It was already becoming dark but that did not bug him, his night vision was making everything clear as day. It concerned him, deeply, but all he could honestly think about was Greg, and his parents, and Sara… everyone back at home had to miss him and probably thought he was dead. Unless Greg somehow remembered everything, though he doubted so, as there was a good chance after being here one didn't remember any of their adventures in the strange land. Only a small part of him held out hope for that end of the bargain._

_ Then there was Beatrice, who was still here and unaware that he had become like this, completely unaware, so much that it scared Wirt to know that the one person in the world who had a shot at knowing where and who he was wasn't aware of where or who he was. _

_ Huddling closer to the tree, he curled up, or tried to, as best he could with antlers sticking out of his head that still ached. Sleeping probably wasn't a thing he did anymore and anyways, he was supposed to be nocturnal, right? And had the Beast ever slept period? No, probably not, at least from what his brain could grasp at, which at the moment, wasn't much. _

_ It hurt, oh, it hurt. The pain of the spirit running through his blood, and every little moment a new transformation down to the smallest cell in his body went off, and either he felt it and knew it or would know it sometime soon. His head still ached, and his mind was edged with dark thoughts, but not many and not much. _

_ Thus the slowly turning into half human half tree creature spent his night in the forest, staring into the sky hopelessly pondering the meaning of it all._

_ End of Flashback_

The night ended with a swift rise of the sun that day. He hadn't seen anything like it in quite a while, mostly due to the fact that getting out and about was often harder for him just because he didn't know quite where to go. Wirt knew the place like the back of his hand now, there was not a single place in the whole Unknown that was unknown to him. It was something he took for granted a lot of the time but now he was grateful for it, and he even knew the people and beings who lived in the area, not from personal meetings (except for a few) but from nightly stalking and so forth. He'd taken care of the south end last night, gone on a round that completed at his starting place, somehow, right back at the house in which he knew his brother was in. If only he could get to him, let Greg know he couldn't go back. Wishing he could tell him otherwise. But it was for Greg's safety, and that's what mattered here.

He sat among the trees right on the edge of the clearing with the well, watching and waiting silently. Boredom was something that often happened throughout the day, only at night was he focusing and paying any attention to what he was doing most of the time, just because he didn't have to. People walked in and out of the house as he watched for a good long while. It was a bright day, hitting at just the right temperature to make his mood plummet and his mind sink further down into the dark side of things.

Soon the Beast stood under the trees, watching the helpless family that the foolish girl belonged to run around all day doing their work. Only once did he catch a glimpse of the girl or the young boy, and even then he wasn't quite sure if he'd seen them at all or if it was an illusion of his mind because he was so focused on finding them. The darkened figure rustled every now and then, but no one heard him nor saw him.

For his mind was on hunting, hunting that soul of which he knew was here and he didn't like that he was attracted to it. That the boy, Greg, was so important to him only drove the Beast madder, until it seemed almost unbearable. By then a midday sun shone overhead and the house was loud with the sounds of making a lunch no doubt. Such a loud family that inhabited such a small little place, the Beast was sure he could make out Greg's high pitched voice from here. Oh how he needed to get that soul.

He still continued to chew on his thoughts silently, though. All of them turned to the boy and of the times he was sure he'd had with him. Yet the Beast wasn't sure what those times had been or what they had done. Gone on trips? Seen places afar? Talked of frogs? Even eaten dinner together? He was completely unsure of what he had done with Greg before-before all of this. Wirt struggled to get his mind together. They'd had good times. The teen knew this.

It felt as though every memory had been pushed out of his brain, and Wirt knew very well what exactly had just done this to him. It had been the Beast no doubt. That dirty player. If Wirt wanted to make sure Greg was okay, he had to keep his wits about him. The Beast needed to stay hidden. He touched a leaf on a branch near him as if it were the most delicate thing he'd ever seen, suddenly Wirt had become quite fascinated with the object blowing in the breeze. It was delicate, just as that of his brother's soul. Wirt had to tread carefully on the ice he had just created. Everything screamed at him like he was the biggest danger anyone had ever seen here, and he knew this was indeed true. He was one to be feared.

The Beast pondered for a little while longer, observing the graying skies above him. As the day drew on, it appeared storms were coming swiftly. All the better for his hunting in the night, it would cover the moon to create a thicker cover of darkness. He had to think up about how he would use Greg.

In previous times he would have used him as oil. Now it seemed there was a greater use of the boy. The Beast could not, no matter how hard he tried, place his finger on exactly what that use was to be. It evaded his grasp every time he attempted thinking about it, attempted to and caught the edge of something that flitted by quickly afterwards. Whatever it was, it would come to him someday, the Beast was sure of it. That was how everything worked in his mind.

Afternoon passed quickly by, the various stages of the sun floating down lower and lower, the Beast continuing to sit underneath the trees and gazing about him, thinking. Pondering. Then the night came swifter than the morning had, a swift sunset and the settling of the dark around and above him. The Beast smiled confidently, standing in his place. Waiting. He knew she would come out. Her curiosity couldn't help it. And then that poor girl would really pay the price for having taken the soul he wanted, the one he needed.

Sure enough a lantern bobbed from the side of the house and out to the well, coming towards him at a fast pace. A red headed girl stepped out in front of the well now, staring at him. Beatrice. For an instant, Wirt crept in and a small sad smile covered his face, but then in that instant the scowl and dark look returned on the Beast's face.

"You're still here." She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"I'd have thought we did enough of our arguing." The cold, deep tones of his voice rang out in the clearing.

"Oh, yes, certainly. But I also think it's time to talk about something else. About Greg. What we shall do with him. Surely you do not think I can send him back? You'll have to do something, Wirt." Those brown eyes were filled with more confidence than he had seen them in a while.

"Oh, I'll make my move. Not just yet, I'd like to think of what I can do. I do not have a plan yet."

"Do? To what? You wouldn't dare think of hurting him, Wirt?!"

"Mind you don't intrude upon my secrets, girl. I will not allow you to know of them." His cold white eyes flashed with a thousand colors.

"How would it be if I made a bargain with you?"

"What type?" The cold white eyes narrowed, eyeing her.

"I would like… we need to get Greg back," something else was in her voice, something that hinted at it not just being Greg, "and you're the only other one who can help. You're the only other one who knows. He wants to help you ,Wirt. But I don't know… I think it would benefit him to see what he can't fix. I fear you'd scare him too much, though."

"What is this bargain, girl?"

"I would like…we need to go adventuring again. But I must see Wirt. It must be Wirt all the way through. The only company I'll take with me is that of Greg's. But you, Wirt, not the Beast, otherwise this won't work and," Beatrice took a deep breath, "your part of the bargain…you can take me. Don't do anything to Greg once this is over. You must take me. You want a soul so badly. Mine is just here. Stuck here, being forced to marry a man I really can't stand."

"Adventuring?" Wirt asked, his mouth going slightly slack.

"Take us everywhere, Wirt. Everywhere you know. Show us. Then…take me. Let Greg go home if you must."

_FB_

_ Once again he stumbled through another set of thickets. It had taken him such a long time to figure out that this place existed, and now he was stuck in another bush again. _

_ Glancing around, Wirt noticed the clearing he'd just fallen into and absentmindedly brushed off one of his tree branch antlers with his hand. It wasn't strange anymore. The pain hadn't lasted much longer after he'd fallen into a lake. After frantically getting out of the water, he had found all the pain in his head gone and his frustration still there. For some reason he'd been walking to his destination for days. It was on the outermost regions of the Unknown that he finally found the place, and now it was just an empty clearing? Wirt was very confused as to what was happening. _

_ A little nudge from inside his mind told him that what he searched for was there, he was not bound to find it just yet though. That was not helpful in the slightest. At least when the Beast talked to him it could have given him some more direction instead of choosing to be so discreet. But no, Wirt was forced to figure out half the stuff on his own. Like how he'd known to come here, something required his attention. But whatever it was he wasn't going to find out until he would happen to stumble across it._

_ There in the center of the clearing stood a shack. Rusty, old, what looked to be moss stretching across the front of it and a good amount of rotten wood that it was made up of. Wirt made his way slowly forwards, observing the porch of the shack like it was a trap. No doubt it probably was. Everything was either booby trapped or some innocent person waiting to capture you, so basically, everything was booby trapped. Wirt had learned that the hard way several times over._

_ After determining the porch to be safe, he stepped carefully onto the old wood. It didn't go down underneath him and he walked across it with a courage he'd never felt before, and knocked on the door rather tentatively. The answer only came after a few moments. He still didn't know why he was here. The minute the door opened, a scream came and it closed._

_ "Wait! I'm supposed to… be here…" Wirt sighed, feeling a fresh wave of pain wash over him at having lost everything. Apparently he'd just come here because he'd thought-no there was no reason. No reason whatsoever. The Beast stalked off the porch and departed back into the woods, fuming silently._

_ FB Ended_

"Alright." The reply was made by Wirt.

"Deal?"

"Deal." Beatrice was forced to come forwards and shake his root filled hand, a sincere look in her eyes, and a cold one in the Beast's.

**A/N: I'm sorry if this was short again. But it had a lot of stuff in it and I think we all need time to process this much. Well, that was chapter seven! I hope you enjoyed, I promise to update soon! Thank you for reading, and please, review, review, review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am back, after a whole year ended and almost a month passed. Anyways:**

** Someone: Well actually this is probably my ...most reviewed story I've ever had while running with it so um yeah. But thank you! And luckily, I haven't abandoned it because here it is!**

** Ayatsu: Aw, thanks so much! I'm sure you're not horrible at writing. But if you think so, then I will continue this story to keep up what you want to see from a fanfic!**

** Shadowfang14: Thanks! and ironically so am I have no idea where this story is going each time I pick up my laptop and begin writing it I'm really never sure what's going to happen...well we'll see I suppose!**

**Alright well here's the next chapter! **

** Beatrice's POV: **

She gasps ever so slightly as the rooted hand touches hers, but doesn't allow the Beast to see it. What she has just agreed to will cost her way too much. Beatrice knows it, but she will not allow herself to admit it in front of him. He'll take it the wrong way. He'll think she's truly scared, when really, she's not scared of him. No. She's scared of failing. Of failing this and not getting Wirt back, of having to stay with the Beast, of having to become one with him as a collected soul.

The moment passes in an instant and she withdraws her hand, glancing up at the multi-colored eyes of Wirt. They were looking at her, and for a brief moment both stared at each other intently, then looked away quickly. Beatrice had felt something else there like an electric shock, but she didn't want to admit it, because it had been Wirt she was looking at and not the Beast.

A few awkward moments passed where the only sound to be heard was that of her breathing deeply. The night air brushed across her freckled face, giving a small tickling sensation, and the sounds of night creatures roaming the branches and areas of the forest coming from behind gave off the sensation of fascination and horror. It was then that the Beast, no, Wirt, raised his head a little higher as he was indeed taller than Beatrice, and spoke.

"When do you want to begin?" It was Wirt alright, the uncertainty was there. She found she wanted to sob over the magnificence of hearing him once more, but held back any such notion and nodded slowly.

"I would say tonight. I have no idea what I will tell my parents, but I'm sure they don't care. In the least, it's just good to have Wirt back."

"I suppose I agree," Wirt nodded, then a grimace passed over his face, "but I don't think … he agrees."

"Well what else did you expect? I did just make a deal with that dreaded thing that you had to be here at all times. I don't know how you're staying as you right now, but I suppose it's a weird magic soul thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah something like that. So um…you should probably get Greg." Uneasiness shone through Wirt's expression as he was obviously not sure what to do at this point. Breathlessly she nodded and turned and walked away, heading to the house.

It was a miracle that she'd been able to bargain but now she had to be careful. Even mentioning too much around him was going to be dangerous. They couldn't take any unnecessary results, not anything that would cause the Beast to suddenly appear and destroy every plan they'd made. Of course, a deal is a deal, but it was still extremely risky and nothing could be done to endanger Greg or her. She didn't even know where they were going so much as she knew she had to be careful. Beatrice carefully walked inside and found Greg in one room on a couch, staring at a wall with Jason Funderberker at his side croaking on the occasion. It seemed everyone else was upstairs.

"Greg?" She whispered, and the small boy turned his face to look at her.

"Is Wirt here?" An excited look passed over his face briefly before it died when he remembered all that had happened in one instant.

"Actually, yes, but Greg… we need to be careful, okay? We're going on another adventure with him and it will be Wirt as long as we stay on his safe side. "

Greg nodded slowly, still looking completely uncertain as to why she was acting like this. He obviously wasn't comfortable with his position, and Beatrice wanted to comfort him, but she couldn't offer him comfort. She wasn't going to force something that wasn't real upon him. It was the same promise she'd made to herself earlier; that no comfort that wasn't real would be given to Greg. The kid was too smart for that, even if he was dull and never really knew what was going on sometimes. He loved his brother too much to take such condescending comforts.

After taking his hand, she pulled him up. They walked out the door and Beatrice gently guided Greg to where Wirt stood, gleaming multiple colored eyes staring at the both of them. An emotion showed in his face, a small amount of emotion like that of caring. Her eyes traveled across his face as she observed the emotion, amazed at him, and watched as he realized she was looking at him. The emotion disappeared almost instantly. Looking down at Greg, she noticed he was a little tense but he mostly looked happy that he was looking at the real Wirt again.

"Here he is, Wirt. Now, are you ready to go?" She said, staring at the creature before them.

"I suppose we are. Are you not taking any extra clothing?" Why on earth was he concerned about that?

"Do I truly need it?" She didn't even stutter while saying this, as she'd found it really cute when he'd asked this.

"I guess not." He shrugged. It was Wirt alright.

"Let's go. Where are you taking us?"

"This is a rescue mission? I know someone we can go to."

The uncertain tone was still in his voice. Yet Beatrice found that somehow she trusted him just enough to nod at the rescue mission mention and look down at Greg briefly to make sure the younger boy was alright with this. He was still staring intently up at Wirt, love and longing in his eyes. It must've been hard for him.

The Beast-no, Wirt, started walking away, and she pulled on Greg's hand so he would follow. They walked after Wirt through the bushes and the trees, Beatrice found she almost got caught in a bush. She was a little upset over the fact that Wirt was going somewhere that he wouldn't tell her about. Hopefully it wasn't dangerous. Even if this was Wirt, she still had her doubts about the Beast staying away for all that time. Chances of him trying to come out and take control again were very high, deal or no deal.

As they walked on through the thick blanket of night, Beatrice began to observe the areas around her. Remembering how it had been as a bird, she found that she wasn't a fan of walking. It was rather torturous, as flying had been so much easier with so few branches in her way. Now it was like being blind. Bushes cut across their path so abruptly that she always managed to get smacked with one as it came flying back from either Wirt, who walked ahead, or Greg, who accidentally let go of them on the occasion that he wasn't really paying attention. Beatrice found herself muttering quietly under her breath at points where she wondered how any of this was possible and why she was even here.

The night continued onwards as they did, it was as if they could only move by it so Wirt was speeding up continuously. They just kept going. The world appeared to be holding its breath, and the night was so thick it felt like a heavy pressure down on top of them. Greg appeared to be sleepwalking at the moment, Beatrice could tell from the way he wasn't really moving very fast. Every once in a while she had to pick him up when he nearly fell down. He kept stumbling behind Wirt.

Finally, it seemed they were at some place. Wirt had slowed down and was gazing forlornly at the house in front of them. Beatrice stared at it, it seemed rather old and beaten down by weather. A small cabin in the middle of the vast woods.

"Is this the place you wanted us to be at?" She turned questioning eyes onto him.

"Yes."

"Wirt, this is Lorna's place!" The sudden exclamation from Greg was surprising and Beatrice looked to him, then back to Wirt.

"Lorna? Who, might I ask, is she?"

"A friend." The tone in Wirt's voice suggested this girl may have been something else at one point. Maybe even still, and Beatrice found she didn't like that. She didn't know why, but she didn't.

Wirt moved slowly forward, his cape billowing out behind him. Thoughts went straight through her head as she saw his tall figure in the dim light that came from the sky now. Beatrice chased the thoughts away as she figured that wasn't what she should think. It wasn't right of her to think of Wirt like this.

Then, Wirt stopped in the middle of the yard, as if he had just realized he couldn't go to the house on his own. He turned to give her a blank stare, with what appeared to be an amazed look on his face for some reason. She shook her head, rolling her eyes, not believing him.

"Could you… knock?" He said quietly, give her a soft look through his multi-colored eyes. She stared in actual amazement, but nodded, approaching the door slowly.

Greg followed close behind her, making happy noises. Apparently he knew this girl. Whoever she was, Beatrice was sure she was nice if Greg liked her. Knocking softly on the door, she waited quietly for someone to appear. It appeared they were in a swamp, she was rather surprised they hadn't fallen in while walking to the house itself. Slowly, the door opened and then appeared a-a pale girl with black hair and a confused look on her face, she obviously didn't recognize Beatrice, but then she looked down and saw Greg, and a smile appeared on her face.

"Greg?! Where's…Wirt? And who are you?" She had a soft, quiet voice, smooth and sweet. Beatrice could see why Wirt had been so kind towards her.

"My name is Beatrice. And…Wirt led us here, but I don't know why he brought us here. I'm sorry if we appear to be rude, but I'm sure Wirt is happy to see that you're here. But…I'm sorry. He's not actually…Wirt. Exactly."

"Oh…what do you mean?" Lorna's face showed fear.

"She means this." Wirt suddenly appeared next to them. Lorna's eyes widened, and she seemed to be caught with her breath, she only could look at Wirt.

The Beast himself looked rather sad. His expression had turned downwards, his face sort of sagging. Clearly being seen like this but anyone but Beatrice and Greg was uncomfortable to him. In fact he looked resigned. Lorna looked extremely shocked.

"W-wirt? What happened?" Lorna stuttered.

"The Beast…we…it…transformation."

"What he means to say, the darned stubborn pushover, is that he ended up merging with the Beast and is becoming….well, one with the Beast. It's a dangerous situation that shouldn't be seen by anyone and I'd suggest not getting involved in any of this." She blurted quickly, staring at Lorna, and ignoring any look Wirt was shooting her, as she knew he was glaring or maybe just staring in amazement at her, shock more likely.

"Beatrice…that's … no." Wirt sighed.

"So, you're becoming…him?" Lorna whispered, staring in amazement at the both of them. Greg pulled gently on Beatrice's sleeve, and she looked down to see his reassuring smile. He was trying to comfort her.

"Yes, basically."

"Oh…Wirt…I'm sorry." Lorna didn't seem to be able to show her actual feelings, or those were. Whatever the case, Beatrice could only give her a strange look, wondering what was going on inside the girl's mind.

"It's…it's just…I need you to help us." Wirt said, giving a look to Lorna which Beatrice didn't exactly enjoy. She was starting to realize something more was on about these two, and she disliked it a little. Yet then she didn't know why she felt so bad about it, and critiqued herself, glaring.

"Help you? In what way and…how?" Lorna stared, and then nodded slowly. "I could…help…somehow."

"We need to take you with us on our trip."

"Why would you take me?" Beatrice was asking the same question in her head, why on earth would anyone take that girl with them?

"Because we need more help then we're going to get."

"And what do I do?"

"You come with us and we're trying to get him to be back." Beatrice allowed herself into the conversation because she was growing tired of standing there waiting for things to happen.

"Well…I … I suppose I could." She seemed so hesitant that Beatrice was ready to leave.

"Wirt let's go." The red-head turned away and started walking back.

"Wait, Beatrice! You have to stay here. No going anywhere. I tell you."

"But she doesn't want to come, Wirt. Also remember. No ordering me around." Turning to him with an angry expression, she glared at him.

"Well she does and she is. I'll make sure of it." Wirt growled, looking at her with a glare as well.

"Fine. Then make her come now."

The pale girl began to approach Wirt, looking scared but reaching out her hand for a shake of some sort. The root like hand shook it. Beatrice sighed in exasperation, taking Greg's hand and following behind the two who were now walking off in some direction. Apparently Lorna was just going to go off without letting anyone know, even if someone was at her home. Good grief. At least she'd tried something.

Waiting near the edge of the trees, she watched for Lorna and Wirt, who seemed to be waiting on the porch. At least the girl had some sense in her to tell someone, or get something at least. Greg was impatient but at the same time seemed very happy to see his old friend. She wasn't so pleased with all that had just occurred, but at least someone was happy. Right now, Beatrice was mostly focused on figuring out how to cure Wirt and stuff. Then they could focus on the idea of inviting other people into it. At least, that's what she had planned on original.

**A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed that. Hopefully I can update soon. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and please, review, review, review!**


	9. Chapter 9

** A/N: I am much the lazy little person aren't I? Well, here's your next update. I needed to just get this up there. **

** WyldeHeart: Yes. Yes he is. I mean I guess he always kinda is but right now right now it is bad time.**

** Shadowfang14: Bringing characters in is so much horrid fun! I admit I was curious too until it decided to write itself in a different way than before as you see below. **

**This chapter…this chapter actually has little to do with our band of crazies on their adventure and actually is told from the point of someone completely new to the entirety of this story. Let's see how this one goes, shall we?**

** Woodsman's POV:**

Dark, dark was the night that fell swiftly. He'd been out and about for hours, searching for any sign of wood that wasn't wet. But to no avail. It seemed hopeless, the rain had been going on for days in the area and both he and his daughter were freezing. Anna still wouldn't forgive him for letting that little boy-Greg, was it?-go off on his own, but he knew as well as anyone that it was the way things must happen. If the boy must find his brother, the boy must find his brother. No need to tempt fate.

Funny thing was that tempting fate was something they had all been doing here in the Unknown for as long as he could remember. That was almost the entire point of their existing here; and if someone didn't tempt fate, nothing happened at all to any problem that may arise in the woods. But each member of this place took to himself and thus the problem of The Beast had only been gone when two brothers tempted fate completely. It confused the Woodsman as much as it made sense to him and one can only imagine what it might've done to either of those boys, as he quite imagined.

But as far as he could see, it had most likely done no good to send Greg off on his own except that he had to and that was the end of that. Anna disagreed wholeheartedly, but he didn't pursue it.

The blanket of night, as it came down, did not stop his searching the ground for various chunks of wood. He would go on all night long if he had to, searching and drifting farther from the mill. He knew his way around these woods, it would be fine. Something else was also dragging him into those woods. A strange curiosity that had perked up just that very last hour or so of searching-and it continued on during the next few minutes.

That humming sound in his ears had been there since the day he'd learned the Beast was back at it again, but now as a different person and it was slowly increasing the farther he travelled. No doubt he was getting closer to that being of utter darkness, wherever he was. If he was traveling around, the Woodsman would most likely run into him. He'd not done so yet. It was a miracle he'd even managed to avoid the creature, but apparently the lantern was fueled by something else now, not elder wood trees any longer.

"If I know anything, he'll be waiting around these trees and just asking to be pardoned so he can find Greg." Under his breath came a sigh after stating this, it was a tiring job. But the mill needed a fire in it so he could survive.

The humming continued but he ignored it for now. No need to dwell on what wasn't in front of him, it wasn't right there. It would be better if they didn't come near him, if Greg had found his brother, then it would be best if they stayed away from the entrance they had come from. Although maybe he was too far away now from his house to be counted as "near the entrance", which was most likely the exact case and he just wasn't thinking.

Like any human, or well, close to human as you can get in a place like this, the Woodsman knew that thinking while in a rather comatose state such as he was in was a dangerous thing. It could land him anywhere, far away and in complete danger with a sense of calm that he didn't want to bother experiencing. Thinking while being tired about matters of the Beast certainly landed one in bad places, many had told of these places and their paralysis that seems to overtake one while in the presence of such a form. A lot went on in this place; he may just run into the most unsuspecting persons here.

It was just then, as life will have its coincidences-another lesson he'd learned to live by-that indeed he ran into two unfortunate souls who seemed rather wary and therefore had backed into him.

A screech, no, a shrill scream from what sounded like a horse was heard and a man's scoff was also heard beside this horse. Feeling exasperated, he brought up his lantern to see a rather respectable white haired gentleman standing by a horse, and both looked as shocked as he was feeling fed up with everything. Eyeing them, he gave a grunt before talking.

"And what, who, are you to be wandering around the woods at this hour?" Asking this, he felt his eyebrows rise significantly.

"We didn't mean anything by it, sir. The name is Endicott, Quincy Endicott, sir. It feels almost as if maybe _you_ meant something by it, though." The man gave a wide-eyed look at him, but he shook his head, groaning slightly.

"I was looking for wood. What brings you to these parts? A bit late, you know." He shifted his pack on his shoulders briefly.

"We're selling tea." The horse announced proudly. For a moment the Woodsman startled, but decided to just be used to it and settled back down again. In fact, he recognized the horse from before except hadn't known he talked.

"Not around here, you're not."

"We got lost a little ways back and haven't seen anyone at all until you!" Endicott seemed like that sort of very eccentric little old man, and he prepared himself to have to actually talk with this man for a while.

"I'd expect not. The Beast hasn't found you out yet at all, eh?"

"Oh…no, we haven't seen a single thing."

"Better not to see anything." Glancing around the surrounding trees, he began to wonder how long it would take to get these two back on their way and continue on his.

"Well I think I saw a shadow back there." The horse commented. "I'm Fred."

"I suggest you get on your way. I would give directions but I'm assuming you will just walk forward and run into something. It would be best." Turning around to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder before he could start walking.

"Wait! Before you leave, I'd like you to know that we might need a … er… few directions." The other man had a nervous lilt to his voice. Sighing, he shook his head.

"Just head until you reach the edge of this part of the forest. I'm sure you'll get home then."

"The last people you gave directions to only made it out by losing one." Fred cut the silence that had followed his statement, and he felt anger and remorse well up inside of him, thinking of those two.

"I don't even know the way out of this place. How was I supposed to tell them anything?" He tried not to let any worry fill into his voice. The man backed off a little, and nodded.

"Very well then. Fred, we will continue."

Rustling from a bush behind them caused each to turn quickly and look at the place it had come from. Even his nerves were up in the air, although normally he wasn't this concerned about where he was in the woods, or of the Beast and encountering the creature that was turning into said Beast. And suddenly someone fell through the bush. He hadn't expected to be this far in the thick of the place, but it was in that moment that the Woodsman realized how truly far he was from the mill. That was very far indeed. Closer to the outskirts near the swamp lands than he'd been in ages.

The person that fell through the bush stumbled up and stared at them with wide eyes. A very, very pale girl with brown eyes and soft brown hair analyzed his face before moving onto the others. And then voices through the thicket. The humming in his ears increased as he heard them. So the boy had succeeded. Things were about to get messy, he didn't need his future read to be told of that.

"Lorna!" A little boy's voice called through the darkness.

"Y-yes, Greg?" She piped up, her voice as timid as he'd expected, still staring at them.

"Lorna, why don't you get out of there?" His voice was confused. More rustling through the bushes, then it stopped as another female voice came from the other side of the bush.

"Greg, I don't think we should go through there. Lorna, get out of there. I don't care who's over there, get here." It was an older girl. A voice the Woodsman was trying to identify, and suddenly he remembered a bird…that bird, Beatrice. The name hardly came to him, but he knew it alright.

"You…you may want to see this." Lorna breathed in, her eyes growing wide in the dim light.

"Hush, girl. You'll alert them and we'll be in danger. You're taking a bigger risk than you think." He moved quickly over to her, standing right in front of her and staring into her eyes. The lantern light revealed her clothing, and a bit of the thicket behind her.

"Greg, please come." She was scared, but she was also firm in the way she said this. "Beatrice as well. And-"

"If you dare call him over here, girl, I'll have to use my axe on more than just that thicket." He wasn't hurting anyone else but that Beast, and saying this in a low growl hopefully reinforced it. She shut up after that.

But by then, it was too late. The boy and the older girl were over there already, staring at him and the other two. Greg was the one to break the tension, running up to Endicott, and throwing his arms around the man. Instead of paying attention to that, the Woodsman faced the creature that soon came through the thicket, dark, brooding, but yet with a sympathetic face as it looked on at Greg. Then hardened as it turned to him, almost a glare as if he'd just hurt the thing.

"Anna might've been right: it was a bad idea to go out looking for wood this late." Saying this with as much emphasis as he could, loud enough so everyone there heard, he sighed and turned to look at Beatrice. "You're the only sensible one here now, eh? Or perhaps you're the guilty one in this band of lost souls."

"Actually, I am the only sensible one, and in case you were wondering, I did indeed set this up. But I hadn't intended running into anyone on our way. I should've known people are out and about this late at night all the time." Her sarcasm annoyed him, and he stared at the red head.

"Uncle Endicott?! You came back!" Greg had released the other man now, and was staring up at him.

"Er, well, I guess I did. Or you did." The man offered up. Nervous as ever.

"You thought you could escape anyone at all? What did I tell you, boy, it's not worth searching these woods because you're bound to run into anyone." But he didn't look at Greg, he looked at the Beast while saying this. "You should never have gone to try and find him. You've already lost your brother, Greg. He's not himself even if he's acting like it."

"And what might I ask do you know of it?" It was the older boy's voice, not the Beast's, that he knew, but cynical and angrier than it had ever been before.

"I've seen this before. Or at least known for the most part of what it can be like. You never listened to my warnings in the beginning, and look where you landed now." Shaking his head, he looked at the ground, then back up. "I suggest reconsidering what you've done." He directed this at Beatrice, she looked guilty and he knew she was. It was all too obvious that there was more than a normal friendship in her motives.

"I have very well, and I've thought about it a lot. And it's going to work." The girl replied.

"I would like to know if any of you'd like to buy some tea?" Fred interrupted, the horse had now moved forward and was staring at them all, hardly phased by what was happening in front of him, perhaps trying not to.

"What has happened to you?" Quincy Endicott had finally recognized Wirt and stood beside the Woodsman now, who shook his head in amazement at the clueless one.

"He's dangerous now." Without letting the others talk, he stated this. "I need to get back to Anna. You can stay, or you can go. It's bad enough we've collided like this, it would be best for us to go our separate ways."

With that, he left, leaving them and feeling more at ease now. The humming faded as he headed back home, knowing which way he needed to go now. If they were going to be ignorant and in danger, it was on them. What that Quincy man didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He had seen the hurt face Greg had worn as he left. The boy should've known better.

The prideful look on Beatrice's face. He barely knew her, but if anything, she wasn't making as much sense as human as she had as a bird. Taking a creature like Wirt was now was far too dangerous.

Lorna was innocent as far as he could tell. A member of the group who wasn't sure of where she stood obviously, with some tension between her and Beatrice, most likely over the older boy. Children would be children.

Then there was of course the Beast himself, who no doubt hated his guts. The man couldn't blame him, but he didn't think there was much between them yet.

The Woodsman returned to his house as soon as he could. Things were nasty now, but he wasn't going to get caught in them this time. No, he would stay as neutral as possible. Not even bothering to explain to Anna why he had twigs and one log, he went outside to the mill and worked until the break of dawn.

**A/N: Whew wow it was exhausting tying these people altogether and having them all have to interact and I hope you all liked it. Well, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! That was chapter 9, chapter 10 will be out as soon as possible! Thanks again and please, review, review, review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here I am again, with our next chapter. **

** Shadowfang14: I might. Or I mightn't. It shall actually be revealed in this chapter. But yeah, I know right?! He's such a great character that I actually had to go rewatch some clips from the series with him (and thus have ended up rewatching the entire series) just to remember his character!**

** Once again we're back to a usual point of view, since we needed it after that chaos in the last chapter. **

** Greg's POV: **

"Beatrice?" He pulled on the girl's sleeve. She had been silent for a few minutes, and he didn't want to be afraid any longer of the silence that had surrounded them.

She didn't respond immediately and he took that as a sign to sit down and hold Jason Funderberker closer to him, gazing up at his brother and the others. There was wind blowing through the trees and he didn't like how cool it felt on his skin. He pulled the frog closer, trying to shelter them both from the night air. They'd all been walking for a very long time, and he wasn't sure how much of it he could do. The others might not agree to stop though, and that's why he never asked. Beatrice finally looked back down at him, and he saw she looked tired too.

"Can we sleep?" Greg asked her, looking straight into her eyes.

"I…Greg, could you hold off on the questions, please?" She sounded miserable.

Not at all willing to give up on getting to bed, he looked over at Wirt. His brother looked tired, but maybe he just always looked like that now. It seemed to be the same expression he'd had on since Greg had met him that night. Maybe being the Beast was tiring.

"Wirt, can we please sleep? Jason wants to cuddle in the dirt."

"Not right now, Greg." Wirt replied.

Why were they all sitting there silently, staring at each other? It didn't make much sense to him. And Uncle Endicott looked just as confused, along with Fred. Lorna just looked annoyed, but he had noticed the other girl was much quieter than Beatrice. Greg wondered if those two would get along at all. He was smart enough to notice Beatrice avoiding Lorna at all costs.

After a time it began to wear down on him and he stood up, looking at all of them.

"Well I'm going to go find a place to sleep in and you can stay here if you want." Stating this, he walked off a little ways and settled down with some leaves, sighing quietly to himself.

The whispers from nearby were the only things that kept him up. Maybe everyone would work together now, and maybe they could get the two newcomers to join. He wanted to have more friends, friends were good and Greg knew this. He remembered distinctly the last time he'd been here, when people weren't so friendly. Maybe they'd gotten better now.

He never did get to sleep for two minutes later, Beatrice approached him quietly, and he sat up, watching her.

"Greg, we need to keep moving. I know you're tired, but Endicott told us there was a place nearby where we could stay and figure things out. I guess he has a house in the middle of these woods. But we need to get moving if we want to get there to sleep." She was gentle. He was a little annoyed at people being so gentle with him all the time, but he said nothing of it and got up slowly.

Then they walked on, still in silence, with Endicott leading and Beatrice falling behind in the back. He was between Lorna and his brother, and he was hardly awake, but both seemed to be watching him and making sure he didn't fall behind. If he walked too fast or bumped into Lorna while nearly asleep, she would turn around for a brief moment and push him back gently. If he ran into Wirt while trailing behind, his brother was almost as gentle with pushing him ahead. This went on for a longer time than Greg had expected.

A clearing suddenly opened in front of them and they stopped abruptly, Quincy Endicott appeared to be talking to Fred. Greg swayed on his feet, with Jason Funderberker right next to him.

"Maybe we'll get to sleep now, Jason." He muttered to the frog, who croaked in reply. "And maybe they won't try to wake us up for a while, huh?"

"We're here, the building's right there." The man at the front of the line announced. There indeed was a small cottage in the clearing.

Not giving it a second thought, Greg pulled Jason behind him and followed them all very quickly into the cottage, collapsing onto the floor and humming slightly to himself before drifting into a doze. At some point after this, while in a deeper sleep, he felt his body being picked up and placed in a small bed, and woke up for a only a few minutes to make sure Jason had followed him.

It was the bright and early calling of the morning that opened his eyes, and he groaned a little, just for dramatic effect. Not one of the others were up, all appeared to be knocked out on the other bed and ground. Wirt had simply disappeared, and Greg looked over at Jason as if the frog had the answer as to where the older boy had gone.

"Did he leave during the night, Jason?" He whispered to the frog. Only a croak. "I know you can talk, Jason."

Still only a croak. Oh well, better luck next time. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes and looked around. Sure enough, Wirt definitely wasn't there. The night must've been dark enough for him to disappear into. The thought of his brother as the dangerous Beast rummaging around the forest for lost souls caused a small chuckle to emit from his mouth, not thinking of when he had fallen victim to the being, because without that memory Greg wouldn't have believed his own brother was capable of such things. The guy was a big softie, really.

Lying back down in his bed, he talked quietly to Jason until Lorna got up a little while after, and then he pulled himself out of bed to go talk to her. She wasn't really awake, but after a short time he was able to start a conversation with her.

"Do you want to be here?" He asked her, bouncing on one foot to the other while she adjusted the fire in the fireplace.

"To help your brother, Greg, I'm willing to do this." She nodded slowly, her face echoing a bit of sadness. "Auntie understands, she didn't mind. She'll take care of herself until this is all over."

"You mean the turtle lady?" Greg giggled. "I want that many turtles."

"Yes, Greg, the turtle lady." Her smile was enough to tell him that she was content with where she was, and he was glad he'd made her smile.

"Jason didn't really like her. I think she was eating his friends, that's why he wasn't happy." He held up the frog to show Lorna, who smiled still.

"She doesn't mean anything by it. You should let Jason know that."

After a little more mindless conversation with her, Greg moved away and went to look out the window, wondering if Wirt was out there waiting for them. Beatrice finally got up, and so did Quincy after a time, and soon they were seated around a table that someone had rigged up, eating what Lorna had made, which was porridge of some type.

"So, what would you propose doing at this juncture?" Endicott looked up at them, his eyes widening.

"Well I suggest we try and talk to …him." Lorna said quietly in reply, and Greg sent her a small smile. He didn't like that everyone was talking like Wirt had no feelings, but he also didn't want anyone to feel left out.

"If we do try and talk to him, I'll start it off. I have the feeling he won't be feeling like talking. But what about you?" Beatrice pointed the question at Quincy, and Greg looked to see the old man looking a little distressed.

"I-I was merely here to help and offer a house for the night, surely you don't think I could be of any service to you?" He gulped.

"You can help. Everyone can help." Holding onto a spoon tightly, he looked around at all of them with hope in his eyes. "We'll all get Wirt back. Together."

"I am only a figure in that boy's eyes who is forgotten and I'd rather get home to deliver more tea rather than be a victim of such a horrid creature as the Beast."

"Don't back out of this, Greg's right, we can all help in this. I'd ask you to help more if only you weren't such a coward." Beatrice glared at the man, her eyes blazing, which Greg thought went pretty nicely with her hair.

"Well…if you insist. But only for a little while. I don't think I should be away from my company for so long." There was uneasiness in the man's voice.

"You're right. That's why you'll go back there and return to us when you're ready. We have to trigger Wirt's memories, and you're part of them. But you're not the only one. I want you to make sure the rest of these people in this horrid place are ready to help us out."

"And how, might I ask, well, could I possibly do that?" Those eyes were even wider now, and Greg let out a giggle at the sight of them. He thought it was funny that the man was so scared, of Wirt of all people.

"You're going to deliver tea and then you're going to also deliver information. Each person needs to know they're part of this."

"But what …information?"

It was at this point that Beatrice pulled the man off his seat and over to a corner where Greg thought she might be planning with him. He was glad everyone was suddenly helping Wirt. Wirt needed it.

"I'll clean up, Greg; you don't have to do that." Lorna exclaimed when he took his dish and moved to the wash bin.

"Okay." He smiled, and then walked off to a corner.

Jason sat next to him as he thought. Things were going quite well. All they needed now was the help of old friends and Wirt would be turned back to normal. The Beast would be gone. It would be much easier with Wirt back in the real world. Greg didn't know how it exactly was going to work, but he understood that positivity was the best at times like these.

**A/N: I'm cutting it a little short here but I promise you things will get a move on in the next few chapters. I think I'm going to turn evil here in a little bit and experiment with some pain. Well that was chapter 10, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading and please, review, review, review!**


	11. Chapter 11

** A/N: So sorry for leaving you all for so long! I had a novel I was working on for Camp NaNoWriMo and haven't updated anything, so I felt that I owed you all an update. **

** Shadowfang14: That's part of the fun in writing Greg, his innocence and sweetness. Oh….won't you be … disappointed or… perhaps overjoyed…depending on how this goes. *grins***

** Guest: I'm sorry for such a late update! Here's the next one, I hope you enjoy it and I hope to update soon so I can appease all of the readers' appetites! **

**Now onwards!**

** Wirt's/The Beast's POV:**  
He had trudged through the forest all night long, near the little cabin that Endicott had found them. It was ridiculous to be in such a predicament. The Beast couldn't believe he'd been outwitted so easily. A simple maneuver to get out of this may have worked better; Wirt had to admit he didn't know what the right decision anymore was. Even if the Beast was not bothering him right now, he could feel the murmurs in his head, the spirit was angry about what they'd gotten themselves into.

The forest leaves were thick against his feet, rustling as he went along, but only a little bit. Gliding along the ground was something Wirt had tried to get used to. It felt often like he had no control over his own feet, nor where he was going. The only thing that could direct him was his torso, and oftentimes he felt like it was going in the wrong direction. The moon was full as well, causing him to be a little blinded by its light. No one was out here tonight, not with the chilliness of the air. It was always fall here, or so it seemed. Not too cold, not too hot, just in between, just as Wirt had always known this place was and surely by now, Greg had figured that out as well.

His cloak felt hot and heavy, despite the chill. The fabric was heavy in the first place, and his heart and head were feeling a bit heavy as well, full of thoughts and feelings in every way possible. The fog that was falling thick over the forest was nothing compared to his mind, which was thickened by a doomed sense which he could not quite describe. Close enough to rhyming.

When the sun came up, he found he was back at the cabin. In fact, it occurred to him that he hadn't really been looking where he was going. There was Beatrice, standing outside of the house with her arms crossed, staring at him. Great. He was probably going to get talked to. Lorna was beside her. He felt a bit of rage flare up inside of him, anger at Beatrice for dragging Lorna into this, Greg for causing this, and himself for being the one who ended up like this, something that might never be fixed. The thought struck him really hard, and he felt as if he was falling backwards a bit at the idea. It was the truth, and he couldn't deny it. They were the ones denying it.

As he walked toward Beatrice, or floated, whichever one preferred to call it, he couldn't help but think about how they just couldn't accept his fate as it was. It was his fault after all. They were denying that he might be like this forever, they still had hope. Beatrice of all people had hope. It calmed the anger and brought him a little more calm hope himself, but he didn't know quite what to think.

"We need to talk, Wirt." Well of course, what else would she say?

"Fine. But make it quick." The voice he spoke in was cold, hard, not exactly as he'd planned it on being.

"I can't promise that, because we really do have to talk. Again." Beatrice motioned with her hand to follow her behind the house. He followed, but didn't look at either of them.

"Beatrice, I can't tell you that I'm going to do anything to help you with your endeavors to help me. I wish I could say that I will, but I'm currently stuck between trying to be helpful and trying not to explode on you with anger. You have to understand, the Beast is still here." He sighed, for once he felt like Wirt again. A pushover, too good for his own kind, and everything else in between.

"I get it. Lorna, can you check on Greg?" The dark haired girl nodded, and he watched her leave, then faced Beatrice, who was suddenly a lot closer than he'd intended to be.

"If you think something ridiculous is going to save me, you're wrong."

"I never said anything was going to save you, Wirt. We're doing our best. We have to do this. Because if Greg has to live a life without you, and has to suffer, and you have to see the pain in his eyes if he ever comes here and ends up in this world and watch that pain disappear even after years of him having to deal with it…and you'll still be like this…" she sighed, "I get it, you're cold now. But try and bring something human back into you. Push through this. I already have to marry a guy I refuse to, and I don't know why I have to in the first place, but because I do, you have to do this. I told you a lot of this earlier, didn't I?"

"Well for the most part." He nodded; she was letting her defenses down in front of him. It wasn't a very Beatrice thing to do, and he was feeling a little shaky about why she was doing this. His roots at his feet rustled a bit.

"Things are desperate right now."

"I'm fully aware of this. If you have anything else pointless to say or … do, I think you should probably do it now." The tension was rising, for some reason he felt like he was almost blushing even though he was pretty sure he'd lost his ability to do that somewhere along the way. Things came back at him from the first times he'd been around Beatrice. Sara was still there, or she had been. But now he threw the thought of her out of his mind, she was a fleeting moment in a sprinkle of time. A silly crush that no longer seemed to exist.

"Wirt, what I'm getting at is…oh you probably already know." She didn't move still, dark eyes watching his glowing ones. He searched her face, but she looked as flustered and tense as he felt.

It was moments later when suddenly, she grabbed his arm and pulled his lips onto hers, his cold lips against her warm ones felt strange to him but what was more strange was that they were actually kissing and this was actually happening. For the first time in days, Wirt felt something like joy and happiness flutter in his stomach. A feeling he'd forced down for ages. A feeling that hadn't existed for what felt like ages, because the Beast never allowed things like this to happen. Things like this just didn't happen for the Beast.

He somehow managed to get his hand to grab her arm back, but the kiss was a little short compared to what he thought Beatrice might be trying to do. When she pulled away, a strand of hair was flying loose around her face and he watched it wave in the breeze. They stood a little further apart now, but were looking at each other like a miracle of some sort had happened. He didn't know what to think, Wirt's mind was no longer foggy it was clear, but clear in a shiny sort of dazed way.

"I…I'm sorry…if I…it was wrong to do that, wasn't it? What with me getting…married to some guy…and you being…oh Wirt, I'm sorry. I'm a fool. I'm really, truly dumb." She continued staring at him as she said this, not turning away as some girls might or looking down. That's what he liked about Beatrice; she didn't care if you stared at her while she suffered from something.

Yet anger did surge up inside of him, for her having the wits to do something like that. Maybe it was just from the daze, but the Beast itself wasn't very pleased at that. It muttered in the back of his head, saying cruel things he chose to ignore. Beatrice seemed to be waiting for his reply.

"I…no it was fine. I guess I sort of … liked it. But…he didn't…" He found he was more breathless than he'd thought.

"Of course. And I should always think through what I'm doing and I didn't and I was just caught up in the moment and now I'm not going to be able to live a life like this." Beatrice threw her hands up in the air and then set them quickly back down again, folded as if she was protecting herself. "We won't tell the others…but…I do like you Wirt. More than I thought I would. You were such a stubborn little boy when you came in here. Or so I thought. I guess I just assumed you would be like that…forever. But I guess you did change. And then you just went away and I was…a little heartbroken, but I knew I'd survive. Then you came back and everything was back although I've denied it of course. I know I felt very little because I pushed it all down. I knew you might not feel anything."

"I do but…" Shaking his head to clear it, Wirt let a thin smile play across his lips. "We don't need to tell anyone. Not unless you feel like it. I always thought Sara was the only one I'd like but … now I don't even think I like her."

It was true; every thought of Sara had gone out of his head and was now replaced with Beatrice, her red hair, her dark eyes, her freckles, her hackling at him all of the time, constantly. Perhaps cliché but it worked for him, every bit of it did. The teasing, the taunting, the constant nagging at him from her.

"Well this talk ended awkwardly. I'm going back inside." She turned away quickly, leaving him to lean against the back of the house and stare out at the forest, branches on his head feeling heavy.

Wirt had analyzed himself in the ponds and rivers in the Unknown for a while now; enough to know what he looked like. It was a bit horrifying, actually it was truly horrifying, and he didn't blame Beatrice for not really knowing how to feel. He didn't know how to feel, how he could live two separate lives. One with her, one without her and dark nights spent alone in the forest. Perhaps time was the best thing here, yes, he figured time would be the best thing, to let this rest until they'd discussed more or decided on something more suitable.

Greg was the one to snap him out of his thoughts not a minute later, coming around the corner of the house with a smile on his face and Jason Funderberker in his arms. The frog croaked once at Wirt, and Greg came up to him.

"Did you have a good night last night, Wirt?" Greg asked, the smile widening. He gave a nod in response, no longer a smile pasted across his lips. "That's good. Jason Funderberker wanted to come see you when Beatrice told us you were out here."

The boy picked up a stick and threw it into the air, setting down the frog as if expecting it to play catch. Wirt watched him give a little sigh when the frog didn't run back to get the stick, and he had to admit it was a bit funny to see such a sigh come out of Greg at a time like this. Strange that such human emotions were suddenly with him. He blamed it on the kiss, the kiss that wouldn't be spoken of. Beatrice had stirred it, but he knew as well as she did that he would go back to rigid stone once they had left him. It was as it always was. The Beast made sure that anything that disrupted his system was pushed down to the furthest and darkest parts so that it didn't resurface any time soon. It was the will of the Beast, it was the way of the Beast, and it was how the Beast worked with all of its vessels. Not long after that short period in the morning did Wirt return to his normal composure, and only if he thought of what had happened that he felt anything but anger.

**A/N: A bit brief, but I think enough happened. The tension that was there is finally somewhat released between Wirt and Beatrice, yay! I guess….I've got plans guys and I don't know how much you're going to like them *cackles wildly*. So yeah, that was chapter 11. I hope you enjoyed reading it! Thanks for reading, and please, review, review, review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm baccckkk sooner than I had planned …wow. Also I didn't mention this in the last chapter last night but happy****d ...**** one year birthday to this fic! Yay! It's been a little over that now but eh whatever, this poor story is over a year old and I still haven't finished it. I'm planning on getting it done before it turns two. **

** Shadowfang14: Agreed. She certainly is. Oh…I'm planning…planning. Yeah. Planning. *chuckles* *cackles* *maniacal laugh***

** Cold-heart-Angel23: Here's the update! Yes it is soon. And yep, I thought it was pretty beautiful as well. And nice. Tension lasted long but just long enough. **

** Aaannd action!**

** Woodsman's POV:**  
The abrupt knocking at the door sent Anna hurrying towards it, before he could stand up. She hadn't even hesitated. It bothered him a little that his daughter wasn't terribly cautious, but he didn't mind. He gripped his axe at his side where he kept it constantly, watching as the door opened and- Quincy Endicott, the same man that he'd seen the night before, stood there staring at them.

"I…I don't mean to bother you but I was instructed to do this and so I followed her direction." The small man gulped. The Woodsman scowled at him, fingering the axe still.

"What did she tell you to do now?"

"We need to help and… she instructed me to get everyone on board. Yours was the first house so I figured I'd head here and….well here I am." Endicott was a braver man than he'd thought, to have the guts to approach his house right now so early in the morning with all the nerves he figured Quincy and that horse had.

"You know as well as I do that there is a limit to how much one can help the one chosen by the Beast, Quincy," He said gruffly, standing, nodding to Anna to leave, "And I already refuse to assist you in any way and you should as well. They're kids, Endicott. Kids who should know well enough that meddling in this ordeal is as dangerous as anything else. Weren't we the same way, way back when? Not kids, oh sure, but we were as foolish as them."

This silenced Quincy, who stood in the doorway, folding his hands over and over again. All the Woodsman could think was of how shocking it was to hear those words come out of his own mouth. Saying they had been foolish…it was true, perhaps they had, but it had been in order to save a friend that never could have been saved. They should've known better, but to no avail. And Endicott was the only one he still knew who thought about it as constantly as he did; and he was sure of this because of the man's pale face and shaky breaths.

"That … that was a different ordeal…You know as well as I do that…"

"It never came of any use to us, eh? Did it? Tell me it did, Quincy." He shook his head, standing up and walking to the door, looking past the man who stood there and out to the creek and the trees. "We couldn't save him. They won't save this one."

"There's still human in…in this boy, Eric."

He stood staring at Endicott for a moment, now more shocked that his name had been uttered and that this man still believed that there was human in Wirt still. It seemed shock was the emotion of the hour, and he was continuing to feel it as they stood in silence for a few minutes, Endicott still wringing his hands. The Woodsman's own hands had left the axe and were hanging limply at his side now. He gave a sigh, rubbing his face with one of them and looking directly at Quincy.

"Come in and sit."

They walked to the couch, and he sat the other man down in it, and sat opposite him, legs crossed and arms on the armrests on the chair.

"You surely don't believe there is nothing there anymore, do you?" Endicott leaned forward, as if to hear his response better.

"What I don't believe is that you would. Endicott…"

"Eric, we lost _him_ because we didn't believe. I think Wirt has more than he did."

The use of his name still made him freeze a bit, but he shook his head, "We lost Abraham because we did believe. We believed just like they do, are, and look where that landed us? What makes matters worse is that Abraham was a man, not a child. He was older, more intelligent and that thing destroyed him, Endicott. Just as it will with this one. It is the Beast's duty to destroy, and the first thing one ever does as the holder of the Beast is destroy himself inside and out."

"Abraham let himself go."

"They all do that." Eric muttered shaking his head and feeling the axe handle again, as if it gave him some comfort. Admittedly, it did, but not terribly much and not enough so that he felt completely better about what he was doing here with an old friend who feared nothing more than standing up for himself. Endicott was a bit of a madman, always had been, but now…

"If you think that is true, which it most certainly can be, then think of what one has of holding themselves there, here, as themselves. I believe Wirt has Greg, who will hold him down for as long as possible. And if that fails, then I believe he also has the girl, Beatrice, who reminds me an awful lot of a bird that I met, a talking bird, a lot like Fred, with the exact same name and who has the exact same personality but I couldn't imagine they were the same person…" Quincy trailed off, but the Woodsman gave a snort, because he knew that bird and this girl was the exact same person. Bewitched perhaps at first, but now she was in her normal state, just more stubborn than ever.

"That girl does not believe that she can let anything slip from her grasp. It is a matter of self-control, something I think many of us wish to have, and she wishes to have over her life and everyone else's, not to control but to relax and keep a balance. You've wished for that exact thing, eh? You have."

"We let Abraham slip and he didn't belong here, Eric. You must believe me. We must help this boy."

"Abraham is the reason I have given up on this situation. You should too. Don't just go on telling people to aid them. We tried that, did it work? I didn't think so. He had his own things that he was attached to here. And just like this boy and his brother, he didn't belong here. I find it is the innocent the Beast targets, the ones who are not from here because it is easiest to attach one's self to that sort of prey." A painful memory shot across his mind, and for a moment he looked to the kitchen where he knew Anna was probably listening in from. She had been Abraham's stronghold, even if both were not from the same place. The Woodsman could only think of what would happen to that stubborn red-head girl had the same experience as Anna had, and knew it may destroy her forever.

"History shall not repeat itself." Quincy shook his head while stating this.

"I do not think it is a matter of history repeating itself here. I believe it is a matter of the Beast repeating itself. That spirit knows very well what it could and will do to everyone in this mess if it follows through." He gave a loud sigh. "And when we tried to get help from the others, even when they did somewhat, they only gave half their heart to it. They knew it was hopeless from the start."

"He's just a boy, Eric."

"And Abraham was just a man. They both resemble something. Something that can be easily corrupted; and that is the statement the Beast means to make with this."

The sound of sobbing came from the room closest to them, and he felt a silent stab to his heart as he knew Anna had been listening. Endicott sat up slightly, looking alarmed, but he sat back down uncomfortably when the Woodsman shook his head.

"What was with the façade yesterday of not knowing me?" Now they would come to this topic?

"I didn't recognize you in the dark, Quincy. And there is also the fact that they could not know I knew you or there was to be a story to follow that explanation. I hardly remembered you existed, Endicott. That is why I was so surprised to run into you, and that new-fangled horse of yours." He gave a shake of his head; it was a tad hard to remember as well that Endicott had the ability to bring topics back at probably horrible times.

Endicott, though, didn't seem too fazed by that fact, "I wanted to know, don't be so strange about it."

"Well I am sorry then, I suppose." Eric watched Quincy look at his watch, and then straighten up almost to standing.

"I must go. It is too late in the morning, I have to deliver tea and get back to my mansion. But stay in touch while they are…busy, will you? I must know the outcome. I cannot stand to see such a young mind corrupted." Endicott made his way to the door, and then stopped halfway there. "I have this to give to you as well. I've carried it for years, but I forgot about having it up until last night, and I had it in my pocket this whole time! Such a strange thing to forget about."

The Woodsman stood up and took the small piece of paper from Quincy, who gave him a small smile, opened the door, and left immediately. He looked down at the paper and a bit ashamedly, choked back a sob. There was a picture there of the three of them: Quincy, with his gray hair and awkward stance, himself, holding the axe but actually smiling a tad bit, and Abraham, with his blond head and suit with a bowtie, in the middle of them. It had been taken all those years ago, when Abraham had arrived in fact, arrived lost and confused, but had taken to the both of them quickly. He could remember the way he'd stared at both Quincy and the Woodsman himself, and then broke into a smile for he was grateful to have found life. Or what was somewhat life. The Unknown was a mysterious place, and Abraham had known little of it at that time.

If only it had stayed that way. That name, Eric, the name he rarely used, the name he couldn't stand using because it symbolized a time when things were a bit careless, before the arrival of the Beast and before things were meant to be corrupted. But nothing stayed the same, nothing but this place and his house and the running water and himself and his daughter and everyone else here except for those who happened upon it from time to time.

Anna!-he had nearly forgotten how he'd heard her sobbing. Setting the picture into his pocket, he swiftly made his way to where she stood in front of the cabinet, pulling something down and hiding her face from him when he came in.

"I know you heard that." He said as softly as he could.

"Oh father, why did he have to… to come back? What is happening that could make everything so much worse than before?"

"It appears the Beast is repeating himself. I told you about it. But here, here is something that I will keep with me and if you ever need to look at it, just ask." He held out the picture in a shaking hand, he was feeling worse than he'd thought. Anna took the picture and gave a gasp, staring at it while tears streamed silently down her face.

"I didn't know that still…was here."

"Endicott brought it with him. Said he'd been keeping it for ages."

"May I just go…I need to go lie down, may I?" She looked to him for guidance, asking if he wanted food no doubt sooner or later.

"Go ahead. It ain't a problem if we have dinner late. I can work until then." Taking the picture and placing it in his front coat pocket, he leaned in and kissed the top of her forehead, and with a small nod, walked away and headed to the door, gripping his axe still, and thinking of simpler times before the Beast and before things got angry and before anything, anything at all was corrupted.

**A/N: Oh…oh man historrrryyyy! I really like how that went. And what I did there. That was actually completely unplanned. What's planned comes nearer to the end. Which will come but it's gonna take it's time. Yes I did just create my own character who has history and was friends with our two men here and was the Beast before and yes. Yes. The Woodsman's name is Eric. Hehehe. Alright, well, that was chapter …12 is it? Yeah. I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and please, review, review, review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: 'Parently I like updating this story a lot more than I thought. Mostly right now it's just 'cause I like where all of this is going. **

** Shadowfang14: Naw, I made it up. Eric isn't his name. I just thought it would fit the character. Idk what Patrick M. had in mind for his first name. Thanks! Here's the next one!**

** Here we go! (Oh god)**

** Beatrice's POV: **

If it weren't for that kiss her whole world might be normal and she wouldn't be feeling so suddenly rushed. If it weren't for that kiss, things wouldn't be so complicated. If it weren't for her feelings in general, she wouldn't be sitting in a chair with Lorna staring at her with concern. If it weren't for the Beast she'd never have met any of them and things would still be normal, and she wouldn't be getting married to some guy she didn't want to. If it weren't for her mother, she wouldn't be here at all. If it weren't for Greg, the Beast would be roaming again. If it weren't for her own foolishness, she wouldn't be sitting in some abandoned cottage with no idea of how life had gotten so messed up.

Thoughts like these, and only thoughts like these, trickled through her mind in a slow torrent of molasses-like speed. Her breaths were slow, but she could feel the way she sort of raggedly took them in and then let them go as slowly as her thoughts were. Beatrice was feeling a little more wretched than usual over her own actions, and with no one to tell them about except the one she had performed them to, it was all the more horrible.

Lorna's large eyes were still looking at her. Why was that timid creature looking at her? Okay, well, perhaps it was the position she was in, with her legs spread and her dress falling between them and her head in her hand, eyes shifting from one place to another. It was a little strange of her to sit like that, no, Lorna probably thought it was strange of her to sit like that. For Beatrice it was often the one way she could disgrace her own mother, because despite her love for her mother, she didn't always enjoy the way the woman talked about their family and such.

"Beatrice?" Lorna's small voice came softly to her.

"Please, don't talk to me." She shook her head with enthusiasm, pressing her hand harder into the side of her face.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Do I look well? What do you honestly think?" Lifting her head and dropping her hand, she stared straight at the girl.

"You look quite well but…your mental state may say otherwise." So now she finally got it. Sheesh, the girl was a little dense.

"It does. And probably my physical state. Why do you care?"

"You talked to Wirt. Did he say something or perhaps do something that you did not enjoy?" Her manner was kind enough that Beatrice sighed because the girl probably would never believe her if she said she was the one who had done something.

"No, it wasn't … he didn't do anything. I guess." If you called that not doing anything.

"Then what, may I ask, happened? I'm afraid I don't understand what you are getting at."

"A lot of things happened, Lorna. A lot of things, things I don't think you'd understand anyways." Beatrice shook her head once more, but less energetic again.

The silence that reigned after she spoke was one of deep thought. Beatrice could tell that Lorna was trying to figure out what she meant and what had happened, but the poor girl was not doing very well at it. Which, of course, was fine in Beatrice's view because she didn't want her finding out right now; things were too busy and they were trying to still figure stuff out anyways. Apparently that was what she was going to be doing with Wirt now, trying to figure out why they felt this way to each other and how they could make it work with him in this horrible position.

Light flooded in suddenly as the door swung open and in came Greg, humming a tune and holding his frog. He smiled at the both of them, and then sat down abruptly in front of the door as it closed. Beatrice wanted to smile back but with the way she was feeling, which was pretty gutted out of emotions, she couldn't do anything but lean her head on the table. Lorna stood up and looked out the window.

"We may need to do something soon. Are we going to keep walking?" She said, turning to look at the red-head.

"I have no idea, okay? Look, maybe we're meant to just stop here. I don't know what to do anymore, and I don't know where to go." Beatrice had felt the anger there but now that she was actually releasing it, part of her wanted to stop. "I don't know how we can help any longer."

She stood and stormed out of the cabin, leaving the other two behind and heading toward a tree. Settling down against it, she sighed, burying her face in her arms. Everyone expected her to have the answers. They had a right to, as she had created this mess. She was the one who had made the deal that had landed them all here, and now where were they going to go? Wirt was going to end up staying like this and was going to be the Beast. It was just going to happen: she should have realized they were simply delaying time. Hope wasn't there anymore, there wasn't any hope anymore that was left for her to use against what was the inevitable.

A feeling of a presence by her caused her to lift her head, hoping it wasn't-but it was. Wirt stood there without a single emotion on his face. He looked almost sorry for her, but she wasn't sure he wanted to feel happy. It looked like he didn't. Happiness was probably the worst thing conceivable for the Beast and she was the one who had caused it, and now he looked more in pain than anything else, as if being happy caused him severe pain. Most likely it did, so now he was suffering. Beatrice wasn't sure if she was upset that it was because of her that he was like this, or not.

"Beatrice?" Well that was definitely Wirt's voice, so the Beast wasn't busy right now. Probably unhappy, but not busy.

Instead of replying, she put her face back down, not willing to look up. All this time had been spent wondering how he was feeling, and it made her feel worse that he was just as confused as she was. Only they could get themselves out of this mess, and that was what was the worst part about it. The other two couldn't help with this part of it, as much as she wished they could because she needed more support with what she was feeling currently.

"Beatrice?" Wirt said it again, still no emotion in his voice. "I…"

"If you've come to apologize, it was my fault. Let's not fight like the most cliché people ever, please. Or whine. Or complain." She sounded muffled through her arms.

Wirt took a deep breath, she could hear it, "I … I know. I just wanted to let you know…that…if I get out of being like this…we could…"

"You're not going to escape the Beast, Wirt." She said it coldly. "It's too late. The others were right. This sort of thing doesn't …. It doesn't go away. You'll become the Beast. And you will not be Wirt anymore and this whole endeavor will be for nothing."

"I know that, Beatrice." Wirt actually sounded sad, and she looked up at him, staring at him in disbelief. "I … it was hopeless all along. We haven't even gotten far yet and I already know that. I did know it."

"So you're just giving up?"

"There you go again." This time he was harsh about the way he said it, shaking his head. "I told you. I'm not giving up. This is just accepting my fate, I guess."

"You're not going to do it." She refused to just let him go. No matter how she knew it was right. "Someone here has to have had experience with this sort of thing before."

"If there were anyone, they would have helped."

"I don't think so." Beatrice looked away from him and around. "I have the feeling they wouldn't want us to know about it so they'd just be rude and walk away."

Wirt drew in a sharp breath, "The Woodsman doesn't know anything about this."

Yet as Beatrice listened, she knew that it was the Beast talking in that instant and not Wirt. It was easy to identify the different voices. Her suspicions grew as she thought about how the Beast probably lied about stuff to cover up his past. Evil spirits often lied to cover up, it was common sense in this place.

"The Woodsman knows plenty of things and we're going to find out what exactly he knows." She stood, and couldn't help but let the smirk grow on her face because she was overjoyed in allowing him to know that she wasn't going to let the idea down. They would find out what they could.

"I refuse to let you do that." The Beast's tone was sharp now, and he reached out and grabbed her hand, large white eyes swirling.

"You can't do anything, since Wirt's in control of you currently, and we made a deal. Anywhere. Until we've given up or win." Beatrice made sure to say this matter-of-factly and started walking toward the cottage. "I'll get the others, you wait here."

The Beast moved to stop her but she began to run, ignoring his low growling sound that followed her. When she flung the door open and saw the other two on the floor, playing with Jason Funderberker, she couldn't help but give them both a smile. They stopped and stared, wondering no doubt what had come over her. She was feeling much better than she had been 15 minutes ago.

"We're going to see the Woodsman." Announcing this, she crossed her arms.

"The-why?" Lorna exclaimed, standing up. Greg stood too, eyes gleaming.

"He'll give us food." Was Greg's reply, but Beatrice didn't make any comment off of that.

"He has information we need. We'll get there as soon as we can. I don't think he will want to see Wirt, but we can go in, I'm sure of it."

"He seemed so angry…" Lorna trailed off, her face looking rather pale now.

"I'm sure he'll be unhappy to see us, but that's not what matters."

Greg grabbed his frog and started out the door, but Lorna seemed to freeze before she moved forward. As if she suspected something now, but Beatrice didn't let that linger, because she was finally having good thoughts. All thoughts of what had happened were gone and now she was determined to find out what she could. They were no doubt nearby the mill that the Woodsman apparently lived in, as she had asked Wirt of once, back when they were traveling around to get them home-that thought struck her a bit.

The feelings she'd had for Wirt had started during that time. Maybe it was obvious, but she figured it wasn't since he hadn't suspected much at all back then and probably hadn't now. Up until now, at least, and now she'd ruined her reputation right in front of him, to him.

"Let's get moving!" Greg ran out of the door, and she followed him after Lorna.

If things were going to get better, perhaps they could find a way out of all of this and the Woodsman had answers. Her suspicions had started last night when they'd run into him, and now it would be best if they pursued those suspicions. Beatrice had enough confidence that she knew better than to let them fall flat on their face.

A few hours later they stood on the steps of the mill house. Wirt had gone to lurk in the forest, and she was looking at the other two.

"Well, we'd better get going on this." Lorna announced, and did the last thing Beatrice thought she would ever do-knock on the door.

A few minutes later and they were confronted with the Woodsman. He stared at them. Beatrice saw his face fall a bit at first, and he was silent for a little bit. As if he was considering whether to let them in or not.

"Well. This is an interesting situation we have, eh?"

**A/N: Well that was chapter 13. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Can't wait until the next one! Thanks again and please, review, review, review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Well it's been a few days. I owe you a chapter. This … I have no idea what is going to happen in this one but I guess we'll find out, eh? Also, just as a warning, next weekend I'm like everywhere so I may not get to update *inserts frowny face* so yeah. Just warning you all. I'm gonna probably leave you hanging. **

** Shadowfang14: I admit, she has got some crazy determination, doesn't she? Thank you! And here's your update!**

** Cassandra Cat: Awww, thank you! You're very welcome! Here's your next chapter! (Secretly, I agree with the shipping, I have but you know, there's a sad thing called canon and non-canon. But I will still ship them no matter what. Oh well )(Also to answer a question: Her mother's forcing her to marry James because…arranged marriages, I suppose? Yeah. Basically it's the idea that James has money so he's good to marry. Even if they are all dead and in purgatory. Hooray!) **

** Alright, and onwards!**

** Lorna's POV: **

Entering the old man's house wasn't something she really, truly desired at the moment. In fact she felt quite flustered, but did not want Beatrice to find out that she was so overwhelmed. The Woodsman, if that was indeed how he preferred to be addressed, although she figured not, took them into the main room and sat them all three down on the couch. Then, he sat across from them with a rather disturbed look on his face. It was a mysterious thing-or so she thought-that this man had lived here as long as she had surely, and had never run into her once. It was a ways away from Auntie's house, so she couldn't blame him. Beatrice was sitting on the edge of the couch, while she leaned against the end of it in a pleasant position, or at least that's how Lorna liked to think of it, with her hands folded on her lap.

"You came, I'm assuming, because of him?" The Woodsman spoke first, without a hint of a doubt in his voice.

"Well why else would we knock on your door? To sell tea?" It was rather rude of Beatrice to inquire this so fitfully, but Lorna kept her peace.

"In case you were wondering what, er, happened to Quincy…" He looked uncomfortable.

Lorna moved a bit, trying to see if Greg was doing anything he shouldn't be, but the boy was seated on the floor near the doorway with his frog. It was relieving he was being quiet at all, for she did not know or like to think of what the old man would do if Greg were loud. Though, perhaps she had not misread the look of minor affection the Woodsman had on his face when he had looked down at Greg when they'd walked in. Perhaps that was a shared feeling of sympathy he had for Greg.

"You stopped him, didn't you?" Beatrice sounded nearly hysterical. What a mood swinger she was.

"You do not know of your actions, you know nothing about what it could lead to." Now it was the Woodsman's turn to look annoyed. "I have warned you and you have done nothing, and ain't that just the way things go? No, I'd rather not let you know of the past. I will not try and warn you farther, that's not done you any good, eh?"

It was Lorna's turn to give a little jump, and she turned to look at him, "What … past, sir?"

"A long story of which you do not desire to hear, child. I am sure of it. Why you are even with these … these marauders I'm not sure of, but you don't want to hear of the horrors of the past." He turned to her with a kind look, but he hardened almost immediately after that.

"If it has to do with saving Wirt, I'm all for it." She stated. It wasn't proper to do that, now was it? She wasn't sure what proper was anymore, so it was probably for the best.

"It is terribly depressing and something that I don't like to think about because it will not save Wirt. In fact it is a story of the complete opposite. Of a failure that I wished never to happen again, but the spirit of the Beast prevails all of the time and it hurts to think that this is how it goes." The Woodsman seemed to sink a little into his seat. He was speaking rather nicely compared to how he'd been the night previous, and she began to think he wasn't so bad after all.

"I want to hear it, and if you don't think it's fit for me, look at what's happening to Wirt and maybe you'll think that's not fit for me too," Beatrice was nearly growling now, glaring at the man, "I want to save him."

Lorna shook her head slightly, feeling a wisp of hair fall across her face. She looked down at her pale hands, wondering if maybe they could do anything to help Wirt, if anything could. It was strange how he'd come to her first. Clearly she was the only one who'd ever been helped by him, since Beatrice seemed to get him out of most of his problems. Perhaps this was a problem Beatrice could not fix and that was why he'd come to her. Or maybe it was out of pure luck.

Silence remained for a few minutes longer. As each one passed, she glanced around at different sections and people in the room. The walls were bare, as if wallpaper was too much to ask for. The chairs and couch and rug all seemed old and torn. It was an old, but comfortable place, much like her own cottage, although she liked to think of the cottage being in better shape. The Woodsman was rather pale looking, as if he couldn't make up his mind.

"His name was Abraham." The Woodsman stated so loudly it caused her to give a little jump. "His name was Abraham, and he was a very close friend of mine. Back then, I think we feared nothing until the accident happened…and Abraham ended up…Quincy was with us, you know…this place is cursed, anyone you meet... I have told many a stranger, who passes by, but none listens and few make it out. Abraham never left after his first misadventure in the Unknown."

He seemed terribly reluctant to go on. It seemed to be causing him pain, Lorna could hear it in his voice, and he was staring above all of their heads, so as not to look them in the eyes or face. She didn't mind, but Beatrice was wide-eyed when she looked over at the red-head. Maybe it was shocking to hear this coming from the Woodsman.

"When Abraham came in, I was telling him the same thing. He was a grown man, late 30s, younger than both me and Quincy by a long-shot and I do recall he was the first person to come to the Unknown who was a wandering, lost soul. Quincy caught him trudging around the entrance, or what has become the entrance over the years, and brought him immediately to me. Both of us did not know what to do with a wayward stranger, a child in our eyes. Someone who didn't belong here. I had heard of the menace, the evil spirit in the woods who was looking for a vessel. The spirit had come only recently, it was almost a rumor and I fear we payed not enough attention to it. Abraham came in and was introduced to my daughter…oh Anna…she'll never forgive herself for what happened to him…I believe they were out one night, Quincy and I were working the mill. It had been a little while by then and we were all quite good friends….Abraham and Anna better friends than the rest of us.

'He was captured that night. Anna…she…she came back with him, crying. He came back with strange tree limbs growing out of his head like antlers and roots and eyes, oh, the eyes, I could tell you about that for all of time." The Woodsman shook his head. "He was no longer Abraham. But we still bargained, just as you have."

"You bargained with The Beast too?" Beatrice sounded completely astonished. Lorna couldn't deny that she hadn't been hanging onto the man's every last word, even Greg was now seated between them and was listening intently, but she also wasn't surprised that the Woodsman would bargain with someone, he seemed like that kind of guy.

"Everyone who meets him does in a way." The Woodsman gave her a sad smile.

"I just don't…"

Lorna watched him prop himself up a bit, "It was for Anna truly. We were good friends of course, I did not want to lose him, but I saw it as a losing battle…she couldn't. The poor girl had found in him what she hadn't found in any man ever before. I believe it is a mistake that she found him at all sometimes, for if we had kept her away from him…The Beast was hard to bargain with at first. It was pleased to have found a vessel. It wanted to keep it. It could not use any of us, no it was only wayward souls that were able to be captured by it and Abraham…he was the first. Anna begged us to ask to have him back.

'After ages of coaxing with everything, I finally got him back with Quincy watching from afar and keeping hold of Anna for me. We tried to get help from everyone after that…it is impossible to convince people that any one man who has been overtaken by a spirit will return to normal."

A loud crash in the kitchen was suddenly heard. The Woodsman gave a sad sigh, and yet did not speak. The crash was followed by the sound of sobs. Lorna felt slightly uncomfortable, it was rude to walk into such private business. If only they'd known his daughter was in the kitchen, it would have made it better if they'd talked somewhere else about this. And of course, she figured it was his daughter. Who else would be sobbing at the tale of a lost one? It seemed a little rude to let her just cry in the kitchen, Lorna wanted so badly to go comfort her but something about the way the Woodsman just sat there kept her steady.

"No one listened. We grew more desperate, determined not to let this thing overtake our friend's mind. He was growing more and more Beast-like every day, Anna was losing it. We were losing it. Our minds were losing ways to control him and control our part of the deal, to getting Abraham back. An evil spirit is an evil spirit, always keep that in mind. It did no good. I walked outside one day and nearly lost my life to a piece of wood, and a lantern was thrust into my hands so unbelievably quickly I thought I was dreaming. Then I was thrown into darkness…I awoke to find the yard empty, Anna sobbing at the edge of the woods with Quincy draping a cloak around her and trying to get her to stop…the Beast was created…and satisfied with its findings."

"He…it can't be…he can't be saved?" Beatrice for once, sounded unbelievably weak, and perhaps she didn't want to sound weak, but she was, by this information. Lorna wanted to comfort her too, but it wasn't her place to do that either.

"I am not saying it is all for naught, but perhaps that is also what I am saying. We…Quincy left me for a very long time. I only just saw him earlier for the first time in a very, very long time. I suggest you do what you can with the time given to you. It is a corrupted mind you are fighting against. The chances of saving it are so small I do not wish to try and enlarge them for you with hopes or dreams." The Woodsman stood up at this, coming over to them, and stared at Beatrice. "But don't become miserable. It is a life lost, but it is also a life gained."

Lorna watched his eyes travel over to Greg for a brief moment, sweeping over the younger boy. Greg was the life gained, she knew it, if Beatrice and Greg didn't. The Woodsman then gave another sigh. He was sort of a strange man, she had to admit, but she didn't blame him for not wanting to share the story. It had filled her with a despair she wasn't sure she could deal with. The pain was real, it was there, gaping in front of her like a pit. Beatrice no doubt felt worse. Greg didn't seem to register anything, he was sitting there frozen in time.

"Greg?" She whispered very softly, but the boy only gave a small, tiny, tiny little shake of the head and remained staring at the Woodsman. He was holding Jason Funderberker close to him, no doubt for comfort. She couldn't blame him.

The Woodsman turned and went into the kitchen now, no doubt to comfort his daughter. She felt bad, but was glad he had done something about the loud sobs now echoing around the house. They finally stopped. Lorna found she had taken Greg's hand in hers and was rubbing it gently, trying to unfreeze him.

"We…it…" Beatrice was mumbling, frozen as well, staring into space.

"Greg, come along, you need some air." Lorna whispered into his ear. He only mumbled. She slowly picked him up bridal style and carried him out the door, which was a bit awkward but she managed it.

There on the outskirts of the forest, in the depths of it off to the right side of the porch, were two glowing eyes. Wirt was watching them from afar. Perhaps it was better this way, from afar. A distance was a good measurement, or so she judged. Greg was still frozen as she sat him down on the rocking chair there and placed his frog in his lap as well, and slowly started rocking the chair. No doubt they were both hit hard by this news. She couldn't imagine how she would feel if a sibling or a loved one of hers were doomed. A small part of her couldn't believe anything would happen. The rest of her was filled with remorse for what she had done in the past.

Lorna remembered a figure opening the door in front of her, an older, smaller man with a nice accent to his voice, begging for help. Begging to help his friend, whom he stated was being corrupted by "the evil spirit everyone here's talking about, you know" and saying every person had turned them down so far. She had looked at him very sadly, yet had not been sure what to say. He had looked at her with so much hope in his eyes-and she had turned him down just like that. An evil spirit was not to be tolerated with. She knew this from her Auntie.

It was only by stuffing her fist into her mouth that she kept down any cry of remorse or something of the sort from escaping her lips. What she had done…she had helped doom Abraham to his fate, and she was now no doubt sending Wirt to his. Perhaps the Woodsman was right. Maybe it indeed was time to just let this go, and maybe nothing, nothing at all, could be done about it. If it had happened once, it would happen again. History always found a way to come back and hurt a person again. Lorna was certain that this was what it meant to do now, and she didn't know if she could let it happen again, for a second time.

**A/N: Whew! Well, that was chapter 14….crap happened basically….I hope you enjoyed it being from a different POV. Lorna's kinda giving…up…or something here. *maniacal laugh* I have plans. Anyways, thanks for reading, please, review, review, review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I SAW WICKED IT WAS AWESOME YAY! Alright, well that's why I wasn't updating yesterday. So here I am. Again. **

** Shadowfang14: I … I yeah. I wonder. That's the right question. *grins***

** Onward. *WARNING: GRAPHIC SCENE INCLUDED HERE. IT'S NOT HORRIBLE HORRIBLE BUT IT'S NOT NICE EITHER. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.***

** Beatrice's POV: **

She sat frozen in the chair, not quite sure what to think. Her feelings had suddenly run away and were not coming back. Everything was slipping away, and the Woodsman was right in so many ways she demanded to ask why he had to be so honest. A large gap was sitting there, where her feelings seemed to have fallen. It was quite a feeling; her whole body seemed to be shaking with it. There was a clearing of a throat from across her, and she looked up to see the Woodsman standing with a sad look on his face, watching her.

"I understand that this is, er, quite a lot to take in, perhaps." He was shuffling his hands and feet around, as if he was scared to talk about it with her.

"It…it is okay." She tried to nod, but couldn't move her head in the right way.

"If you would like to know, we tried this on Abraham, but perhaps for Wirt, it would …work. Better than it did." A bottle came out of his jacket pocket, and with a swift hand, he handed it to her, as if desperate to get rid of it. Perhaps it was dangerous. She did not know; but took the bottle gently, observing the yellow-green liquid inside.

"What is this?"

"The last of the reverse remedy made up for us by a certain witch you may have known very well…" The man sounded resigned, "Yes, Adelaide of the Pasture. She did a few good things in her life, but this was one of which didn't … it did not work on Abraham. Perhaps because we got to him too slowly, but we did not know she was able to help him in time. The boy is better off than he was."

Beatrice felt a minor bit of hope surge through her, and stood to face the Woodsman. He gave a sad smile, as if hoping her the best. Perhaps he was. Despite his rough character, she believed he had feelings as he'd shown. Perhaps, like her, he hid them, so no one ever saw how he was. It occurred to Beatrice as she walked to the door with him that he hadn't said anything completely against their decision to come to him yet. Maybe he hoped to be rid of the Beast as well.

"Does he drink this?" She motioned toward the bottle that was held daintily in her other hand.

"Yes. He will, the Beast may…rebel against it…It is primarily the boy's fight then. Whether he gives in or does not, it will determine if he becomes the Beast entirely. Use it wisely. Be careful, and do not watch if you wish to not see him in pain. It is an ugly process, the getting rid of the evil spirit type of thing. It can destroy a man, or it can make him whole again. It is only for the strong. You had better believe he is strong."

She gave a sort of sly smile, "I believe he is strong."

As she walked out the door, Beatrice could have sworn she heard him mutter under his breath after this, "So did Anna" and yet when she turned back to say goodbye, he had shut the door and was gone. Lorna looked up from her position on the steps with Greg, who was silent. The red-head nodded at the other girl, and looked up to see Wirt at the edge of the forest. He had his eyes trained on her. The bottle was still in her hand, seemingly getting warmer as she held it. Taking a breath, she moved her head to let Lorna know to follow her, and moved down the steps, almost gliding, eyes stuck on Wirt's face.

The boy was awfully handsome, whether he saw it or not. It seemed ornate, almost, his facial features combining with the roots growing from his head. Beatrice would have never admitted it-she also admitted this was horribly cliché as well-but he was the exact definition of almost perfection. It was a magical thing, time, and what it could do to a human. Even if Wirt was turning less human as time went on. She did her best not to think about that, and upon reaching him, found he was staring at her as well. His eyes relayed no emotion, as white and colorless as ever, but his face spoke of something more tender. The boy inside of him had turned into a man, Beatrice was sure of it, as he had traveled here. He was strong.

"Wirt, I have something that I believe will help you, but…I don't know if it will work…and we have to do it someplace else. In the woods." She said it in the most commanding, gentle voice she could manage.

"What do I have to do?" Despite the trusting look on his face, he looked scared.

"Drink this. But it's okay, you're going to be fine."

She hated lying to him, after she had showed him the bottle; she turned to Lorna and Greg.

"Greg, you have to stay here with Lorna. We'll be back." She told him, and ignored the frown on his face, turning to Lorna, "I don't know how long we'll be gone, so seek shelter with the Woodsman. He's fine once you get him talking."

Lorna gave a tight lipped smile and took Greg by the hand, turning him back around. Beatrice took Wirt's arm, but he took the hand and let it slide down into his other one, tightening the grip. He felt root-like, but she ignored that. It was comforting, as they walked side by side into the darkness of the forest area. There had to be a clearing somewhere around here, where the Woodsman cut down his trees constantly perhaps. Somewhere no one in the house or the mill would hear the pain Wirt was surely going to feel. She had screams echoing in her mind already, and her nerves were bustling around like jumping beans.

A clearing suddenly appeared, as they often did, in this forest. Beatrice found it odd all the time, even though she had been there for so long, and was startled once more. She led Wirt to the center of it, handed him the vial, and looked up into his eyes. What was there to say?

"I'll be over there…It won't be painless, Wirt. You have to understand this. Fight it off, for everyone. For Greg, for Lorna, for me, for us, Wirt, for us. Please."

"I…" He gave a small cough and nodded, releasing her hand.

Once she had backed up into the trees, just on the edge of the wide open space, she watched him. He was staring back at her nervously, but took the glass container and suddenly swallowed it all. For a few seconds, she watched, feeling her breath hit the back of her throat with a pounding force, and tried not to let any tears come out of her eyes. He was just standing there with a look on his face like he'd swallowed bees. Beatrice never forgot what happened next, despite as much as she might have wanted to.

One minute Wirt was standing there, swaying a bit. The next he was on the ground, writhing in pain. Screaming in less than another minute, and Beatrice had to grip a tree to not move toward him. Whatever happened, she had this instinctive knowledge that she could not go near him while the potion was still working, taking its effect. She didn't know much about it, after not having been given much detail by the Woodsman, but knew it was something awful as he did not want to go into much detail, that much was obvious. The screaming that had echoed in her mind was now real screams.

It was worse than she really thought was possible. Wirt lay on the ground, twisting and turning and screaming, and the roots on his body seemed to be trying to gain a place on the ground as if he were trying to secure himself. All too soon, the roots would be torn out and ripped off of him, only for new ones to regrow. The Beast was panicking at this liquid now floating in its vessel's body. The air around Wirt was black with a sort of strange smoke. It was cold looking for some reason, and she wondered if it felt so.

For a few minutes this was all that occurred. Beatrice proceeded to stare in horror as the roots stopped growing and Wirt's body was flashing as if being flicked on and off like a light switch. All signs of a tree were gone from his body, and he was now just Wirt, but he looked bloody. His eyes were still white, as they flashed open and closed. The screams were only occasional, but still happening. A black spirit pushed out of him, and then returned, going back to him, clinging onto him. It looked like Wirt was winning for the moment. The black spirit was barely clinging on; it was yelling something too, but in a different language, a tongue unknown to Beatrice.

But it did not end there. As much as she wished it did. The spirit started gaining, Wirt's body had solidified but it was easily accessible, or was made so. The spirit cut his arm open, and Beatrice stared in horror at the bone exhibited there. She could only watch still, as the spirit pushed and pried itself into the body of Wirt. Blood was indeed leaking from the wound, but it appeared as if the Beast did not care. Wirt was silent now. It was like watching from a faraway place, watching something she did not believe was happening actually happening. Wirt was losing and Beatrice was completely unsure of what to do.

**A/N: The graphicness will probably continue in the next chapter. Thanks for reading, that was chapter 15! I hope you enjoyed, and please, review, review, review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: As promised, I'm back. Okay not promised. But still.**

** Shadowfang14: hehehehehehehe *maniacal laugh* Well thank you. **

** Odeebee: The rest is coming; this is only just part of the rest! But it is the next part of the rest! Thank you very much!**

** *WARNING IS STILL IN PLACE FOR THIS CHAPTER. POSSIBLE GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION.* And on we go! Also yes, same POV as last time because it's convenient. I promise the next chapter will be someone different. **

** Beatrice's POV: **

A new form of panic began taking hold of her body now, as she watched the spirit prick at Wirt. It was a panic she'd never felt before. Beatrice always helped anyone who needed it no matter how annoying she found them, and now she could do nothing but stand and watch. Her heart felt like it was being pulled away from her as each passing moment continued. At every scream she was forced to look away and then was forced to look back at what now resembled something made of demons, nightmares.

It was a bloody, black, stormy mess of Wirt and a thing flying around him. The spirit was definitely winning now, it had gotten itself most of the way into Wirt's arm and was soon inside of it, unseen but still smog leaked from the wound. Wirt became utterly silent within seconds; it almost appeared as if he were not breathing. Beatrice held her breath, choking on bile and sobs in her throat that begged to be let lose. It was already over so quickly…how was this possible? How did things like this happen to the most undeserving people? Her mind wandered for a second, to Greg, and the disappointed look she'd have to witness on his face when she told him Wirt was gone, the Beast was victorious.

In those seconds, she recalled what slow-motion was once described to her as. The world seemed to turn into a complete slow motion frame in that instant, and then suddenly Wirt was breathing and writhing again. So he hadn't lost-but he hadn't won either. The Beast was taking root once more, except this time gashes appeared where roots thrust out of Wirt's body, on his legs, on his arms, on his hands even. Beatrice prayed that there would be no guts spilled, gut wounds were always the worst, and it seemed the Beast did not want to penetrate Wirt's chest or stomach area. Both were completely unharmed by the roots and gashes. Perhaps the vessel had to still be mostly intact.

The writhing worsened by each minute, a new tension there where it hadn't been before because the red-head could see very clearly that the roots were not being pulled back as they had been. They were stuck in the ground. The real battle was happening inside of Wirt's mind now, no doubt about it because he started screaming at the Beast. Words Beatrice could not ever imagine coming from Wirt, even a few she did not quite comprehend or recognize. But all of them began pouring out of his mouth; he was angry, more furious than she thought was possible for the seemingly harmless boy.

Rain had begun pouring down, but she didn't care or notice. It always rained when something horrible happened. Or snowed. The weather in the Unknown seemed to channel itself to being at the right mood for when things were going on. Beatrice had become accustomed to it. The Beast, it seemed, did not like the turn of events, as the roots were indeed soaking up the water but at the same time, pulled back a bit, the ends raising from the ground and then stepping back in like large, horrible feet.

Wirt was still screaming, and she heard at one point his mouth sort of make a hacking sound, it was pouring so badly she just knew he'd choked on water. A clumsy fool even when he was trying to save himself. A tiny smile came across her lips, but it disappeared as she watched Wirt struggling still. The shouting was over, but that was all that seemed to be over.

And suddenly, everything was over. Wirt stopped writhing. The roots stopped grabbing, and lay still, motionless on the ground, no longer attached to it. The black spirit's smog was gone. The screams had ended. Beatrice didn't believe it. She really didn't. Considering the roots were still attached completely to Wirt, she didn't know what had happened. But the next thing she did know, she was running over to him and shaking him, begging for Wirt to wake up.

His eyes opened after half an hour of waiting, causing Beatrice to give a sigh of complete relief. Upon seeing his eyes, her eyes widened. No longer were they white, no, not the brilliant glowing pair of the Beast. But brown flaked with white, like a remnant of the Beast. A sigh escaped Wirt's mouth as well, and something floated out of it, a small black piece of cloth-like material. All that was left of the Beast.

The roots disappeared; but that was when the bleeding began. Beatrice struggled to find enough of anything in her pockets to cover the gash on his arm, and continued to struggle for the rest of his body. Wirt was completely torn up, flesh hanging limply all over the place. They were both sitting in his blood.

With his eyes closed, he moaned, moving his head in her direction, "Beatrice…"

"I'm not going to tell you to not talk but I need to get you back to the Woodsman. We have to get you bandages." She said it as quickly and urgently as she could, still pressing against the gash in his arm with a rag she'd found.

"He's gone." Wirt said in a whisper, eyes opening once more and looking at her with something Beatrice never thought she'd see in him again. It was hope and affection. Emotions that surely otherwise would be gone.

"You're back. You're safe, Wirt." She bit her lip, a few tears escaping her eyes anyways.

Wirt said nothing. He was indeed back, that was true. She knew it, he was returned to his normal body, no roots, no antlers, no creepy glowing eyes, and no emotionless mask. It had all slipped away with the Beast. He was in pain, she could tell. From the way his face echoed it, and the way he suddenly sat up, gripped her arm, and pulled her toward him into a hug, it was all stiff and painful.

Laying her head on his shoulder, and not caring in the least about the blood that was everywhere, or would be, she gripped him tighter to her. She wouldn't let the tears fall. Not now, this was not the proper place. Perhaps later, in her sleep, but in front of Wirt once more…anymore sobbing when he was around and she might go hide in humiliation for all of eternity.

They sat there for, well, Beatrice didn't know how long, but it was long enough for Wirt to make a soft sighing noise and lay quickly back down again, blood still dripping from most of his torn legs and arms. She shifted her arms and stood up, holding Wirt bridal style. Despite definitely being heavier than she'd thought, he was slightly skinnier now due to his imprisonment time without food. They began to move out of the clearing and towards where they had come from. It was no longer raining either, the sun was suddenly out. Wirt buried his head into her shoulder, having his one arm around her helped the load a little bit.

"Put me down." He ordered in a moment's notice, just as they were nearing the mill house. Beatrice looked down at him, and shook her head.

"I can't."

"Just let me." He was struggling to get out of her grip, so she was obliged to let him go. Wirt landed on his feet like a cat, and with both hands on her shoulders, stared into her eyes once more.

It was smoother this time than it had been the last, she was certain of that. As they came closer, she trained her focus on him entirely until they were kissing, and then she closed her eyes. It was a soft, gentle, rhythm that they moved in. Something new, so Wirt wasn't going to go long at it. But something extraordinary, Beatrice could feel the tingle in her body as they broke apart and he collapsed into her shoulders once more.

There was not a single word spoken between them as they made the last bit of the journey back. Wirt leaned on her now instead of making her carry him despite his blood loss, and Beatrice tried to imagine what she was going to tell Greg and Lorna and the Woodsman. She hadn't considered what she would tell them had it gone either way, but perhaps now it was a better time to look over that.

Despite her worry, it wasn't until they actually reached the edge of the house clearing by the creek that Beatrice gave up and decided to just lead Wirt into the house where it seemed everyone was, and just hope for the best reaction. He was there. It _was_ Wirt, despite his immense wounds and dire need of medical attention. After all, having Wirt back was what all of them had wanted, wasn't it?

**A/N: Oh we still have a few more to go, fellow Wallers. Is that what we call ourselves? Well anyways, that was chapter 16! It is not the last one, expect more soon! (Soon as in either tomorrow or Friday. We shall see. There is still more to my plan. A good bit more. It does not end here.) I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, and please, review, review, review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I HAVE RETURNED. MWHAHAHAHA. ALRIGHT.**

** Cassandra Cat: Thank you! Canon would be when a ship is real, and non-canon would be when it isn't. Here is the next one!**

** Polydactyly Zodiac: Ooo I like that one. Cool. Thanks! Here is more!**

** Shadowfang14: Lol, well, thanks! **

**This chapter…this is a soft chapter and I apologize if it seems like some people are out of character, but it's just so...out of it a bit. I think it's because now Wirt's getting back into the swing of things, so I'm doing just the same thing to adapt to his character being one hundred percent him. Just as a forewarning, this isn't my best writing (in my opinion). On we go…**

** Wirt's POV: **

Wirt could only describe the feeling he was having currently as being high. Not that he'd ever been that way himself, but the exhilarating thing that was coursing, no, rushing through his veins, was so shocking and fresh, and cold, that he could feel it affecting every part of him. Oh, the first time they'd kissed, that had been something, but now…now that he had done it with meaning and with purpose…everything was sharper, and clearer. Beatrice was guiding him over the creek now, the mill in sight. He wasn't sure he wanted to face his brother or Lorna in this state; he knew he looked bad but he also felt so-so amazing, that he figured he would sound wrong if he spoke. Greg would be confused, but Lorna would know.

The multiple wounds along his body hurt so unbelievably much that he held back every groan as each step was taken. He refused to let it hurt him. Wirt felt so high that he was able to block out the pain and hold down the groan. Beatrice didn't need to know what he was feeling. In fact, he wished she hadn't had to see what had happened. Thinking about it wasn't something he could do, it made his head hurt more than anything. The Beast had lost. That was all that mattered.

One single groan as they stood at the door while Beatrice knocked was all he emitted that entire time. Her dark eyes scanned his face; he knew she didn't like the state he was in.

"Keep going a little longer, Wirt." It was in a sad tone, not a concerned or cautious one that Beatrice said this in. Like she knew he was suffering, but also was careful to say anything wrong that might offend him.

With a slow nod, he tried to get his body upright the tiniest bit. It was an effort, as most of it was leaning against Beatrice, but it worked somehow. The Woodsman was the one to open the door. First just a crack, as if he was scared of who was answering, but then he thrust it open wide. Wirt saw something on the old man's face that he had never seen before on it. Shock. Utter, pure, amazement and shock. It was all the old man could do to continue staring until Beatrice cleared her throat swiftly, and Wirt sent a silent thanks to her in his mind.

"Get in here, get him on the couch, quickly now!" With a bit of a cry, the Woodsman came and assisted Beatrice and picked up the other end of Wirt's body. He gave a small groan as his leg was touched, but ignored it, and let them carry him in.

The couch was the most comfortable thing Wirt had felt in a long, long time. His back practically melted into it. Sleep had not been a friend of his for quite a while; he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it. The sounds of Greg bouncing into the room, demanding to see Wirt, and Lorna holding him back slightly, brought his drifting mind back to the present. Beatrice was now standing over him with bandages, and the Woodsman was taking large swabs of some sort of cloth and dunking them in what looked like water. They hadn't applied anything yet, but Wirt could tell they were going to as soon as things were ready. It was going to hurt.

The surest thing that had come out of the past few hours, as far as Wirt could tell, was that he had experienced pain, true pain, and even this would never compare to the demon's torture.

"Do not fall off this couch out of pain." Beatrice commanded when she caught sight of his eye. He could only nod. "And grab my hand if you need something to take ahold of." She said this a bit quieter, loose red hairs nearly in his face, eyes shining with worry.

"Got it." It was definitely a grunt that came out of him now, but he ignored how horrible he sounded.

The wet cloth was soon cleaning the various wounds on his body. Wirt never would remember much of those few moments, just like the minutes spent fighting the Beast's spirit. It was about as painless as anything while they performed the rituals. Beatrice took his hand in hers before he asked her, as if it was something comforting. If it was, he was fine with letting her hold it. The bandages were not fun to put on; they kept having to lift up the limb or his entire body just to wrap it around him. Wirt had taken note already that most of his shirt was gone, and his pant leg, at least the injured one, was mostly gone as well.

And then, as quickly as everything always went, it was done. Beatrice stepped back, breaking free of his grip, and the Woodsman gave a small smile at him as they stood there, breathing heavily. Wirt couldn't find the strength to lift his head at all; but he allowed the corner of his mouth to perk up a little bit.

"You're a brave soul, boy. That was not an easy feat, defeating the Beast. I have no doubt in my mind that it was hard. I'm amazed you survived." The Woodsman looked at the floor saying this.

"I'm just as amazed as you." He gave a sigh; glad he could talk without sounding quite as dead as he felt.

"Wirt?" Greg was right there, large eyes looking up at him with a bit of fear.

"I'm so sorry, Greg," everything broke inside of him as he looked at the younger boy, who was holding the frog, "it was not a good idea to let you…"

"Wirt!"

He suddenly found he was being tackled by the boy, who had managed to get up on the couch. Wirt smiled against Greg's shoulder, despite the small shooting pains up his body. Greg was clutching him like he was going to float away and leave him if he didn't. The scary thought was that it had probably felt like that for Greg the entire time. Wirt tried to hide the sudden tears that threatened to appear at the rim of his eye, it was bad enough he wanted to cry from the pain and soreness. Beatrice was watching them both from the other end of the room, but he sent her a smile before turning back to Greg, who had finally gotten up and was grinning at him again.

"Lorna's helping in the kitchen. I'm helping with dinner, Wirt! I'll make yours special!" Greg bounced off, Jason Funderberker in tow. The Woodsman gave a chuckle.

"It was right of you to apologize, but it took something, didn't it, eh?"

"Yes."

Everything felt a little cheesier now. The feeling grew as Beatrice approached, and the high tingling sense returned to him. It was something more electric than "high" now, something he felt he could grow used to. After what they'd gone through earlier…anything was better than that. Wirt felt more mature than he ever had, but for some reason, he felt like Beatrice would always be more mature than him. She sat down next to him on the couch, hand reaching for his, giving a quiet smile.

"That was…I didn't think of you like that, ever, Wirt. Being the, well, you know, hero of it all, destroying some evil thing or other…you're just so unlike that in every way." Beatrice said very quietly.

"I…I get it." He sounded really weak, but it wasn't like that was shocking or anything.

"But… what if I don't?" Beatrice suddenly turned away. "You're going to go back now Wirt, I can't hang onto you like this anymore, the truth is…you don't belong here. We all know it. You and Greg…We'll talk about this some other time but … I'm sorry, Wirt."

It was such a sudden change of temperature and attitude that Wirt just stared at her as she got up and left the room. He had not realized the truth until now. The Beast had kept down any hopes of home before, even when it was just him in charge of his body, and so the realization that he did have to go back…it hurt. Even if he was well aware that if Greg had to go home alone and he tried to stay here, it would be too harsh on Greg. Wirt moaned at the thought that he was going to have to move anytime soon.

The sooner they got back, the better, and he knew it. Beatrice probably did too, and Greg must've been aware of it somewhat. Or he would be. Time was short when one needed to get back to their own place, and perhaps it would be fine, but for some reason, a sinking feeling had emerged in his stomach. The real world was so different…was it even the real world?-The very thought made his head hurt.

For a little while, he managed to catnap, but far too soon, it was dinner time. Maybe they had to leave after dinner. Greg would be sad, but Wirt would be heartbroken.

"We have to talk about your options now." Beatrice addressed it almost immediately as they had sat down and begun to eat.

"Options for…what?" The mystified look Greg sent around nearly caused Wirt to stand up and leave now, for it hurt to think that Greg was trying to be as oblivious to the obvious as he was.

The Woodsman gave a light chuckle, "For going home, young traveler."

"Well, our parents will be happy." Greg sounded disappointed, but Wirt knew he was also looking forward to their parents, as the boy was particularly attached to them. Wirt didn't blame him.

"Yes, they will." Beatrice was avoiding his gaze; things weren't going to be okay, as if they ever would. "You're leaving after dinner. We decided to send you quickly. It's best to … for everyone, and especially those back where you come from."

"What if we don't want to go quickly?" Brown eyes looked up into his, Wirt knew he was expected to have an answer and not for the first time, he had none.

"It's for the best."

The remainder of dinner was silent; Wirt chose to not speak at all. He hated to talk about anything with such pain in his heart. Beatrice didn't look at him once. He didn't see how he'd made her angry, but at the same time, he knew it wasn't that. They were not going to see each other again. It would never happen. As much as it hurt to think that-and it did more than any part of his body that hurt-he knew it was true.

The last fork to hit the plate was his. He had eaten slowly, it hurt to move pretty much anything, and so when he looked up, everyone was looking around in fear. Beatrice was the first to stand, and she came over to him, eyes looking over his face. Then she took a hand and put it on his arm, pulling him up gently so he was leaning on her. The others followed behind as they began slowly walking out the door and down the steps, and out to the creek where it had all started.

**A/N: Guys it's still not the end I'm not sure how to say this but…until next time! Which will hopefully be soon. Once more, I'm sorry if this chapter seemed like crappy writing...it just wasn't good material or something currently I guess I'm just struggling to write it. But hopefully the next chapter is much better writing. Thanks for reading and putting up with me! I hope you enjoyed, and please, review, review, review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Well, I have returned after a little while. I think we all need to get our minds off of things and so please immerse yourself in this chapter if you'd like. I think it's good to take a break from the real world every once in a while. **

** Polydactyly Zodiac: Don't we all wish? *smirks heavily* This is going to be fun for you…**

** Shadowfang14: Well *laughs* okay, if you think so. Thanks, though! I didn't think it was the best, but I guess it carried itself well. More of a filler. This chapter's better in my opinion, but glad you liked the last one!**

** Cassandra White: Aw, thanks! Yeah….same honestly. They shouldn't have to leave. **

** Jon: I'm going to start off by acknowledging your comment on this being a good story, thank you for that. Also, the idea of Greg being the Beast….somebody needs to write that. I admit it's a clever idea that I certainly didn't think of….And…for the last mention. So I assume(d) you meant by 'tap' the fluidity of the paragraphs. On that last chapter, I must admit, my fluidity was really, really, really off, and that's why I wasn't the biggest fan…it was very "and this happened and then they did this" and I hate writing like that because if I do I'm bad at it, but that's what happened with that chapter. As for the rest, I tend to have a specific structure I follow for every fic I write. Each one gets their own sort of…paragraphing…style…if that makes any sense, it's a style and description type that I stick with throughout the story (if I can, that is the hope) so honestly this one does have a little bit of a weird way of placing itself, I do admit. I do like to take feedback, just I wasn't sure what you meant by the 'tap' which I assumed was fluidity but if I am wrong, feel free to correct me. So yeah. Basically that's why my structuring's a bit weird, it just sort of happens, I guess I play around with styles, I'm not really sure. And that last chapter was just really….really back to like… a year ago me. It wasn't so great. But that's due to a lot of things. Okay, I'll shut up now, but thanks for reviewing! **

**Also goodness knows what's going to happen next…I mean I have plans but … have fun reading it! Onwards!**

** Greg's POV: **

Skipping down to the creek, he stopped and waited for the others to get here. They were walking so slowly! He clutched Jason close to him like he did with his stuffed animals. Everyone else seemed so sad, but Greg was grateful to be going back home. He had to go back home, they were needed there, and Wirt needed to come back as well. By the time the others arrived it seemed like hours later.

"Come on Wirt!" He announced gleefully, and yet stopped as Beatrice came up to him with open arms. "Oh alright you can have a hug."

Beatrice nearly lifted him off the ground and Greg patted her back gently. Jason Funderberker croaked between them, but he shushed the frog immediately. This was a moment. They were going to leave and Wirt was going to go back home and Beatrice…Beatrice wasn't going with them. Greg for some reason felt absolutely miserable about this, and yet didn't want to cry. He was the strong one here. He would show them. No tears were going to leak out of his eyes today.

Once the older girl was pulled back and then attacking Wirt with a hug, Greg looked away from them only to have a hand land on his shoulder. He turned to face Lorna, who had a kind smile on her face. It was like they would all cry today!-But he wasn't going to as he had promised himself. Jason Funderberker was once more squeezed in a terrible hug and let out a large croak only to be "shushed" at again. It was important that he stay solemn now, Greg couldn't believe the frog didn't understand that.

"Good luck."

Two words spoken by Beatrice, and that was all that was needed to convince them to move on and get into the water. Greg shuddered at how cool it was, but when he grabbed hands with Wirt, he felt more comforted. Wirt gave him a small, sad smile, but Greg didn't know why it was sad. They were going home! The joy of this was much better than the sadness of a real farewell. Jason croaked one last goodbye as Greg lay down, with Wirt's hand on his arm now, into the shallow creek.

Then it was peaceful floating-and a sudden explosive feeling as he was pushed into the pond. Then he floated to the surface silently, and opening his eyes, paddled back to shore with Jason Funderberker under his arm. It was the exact time he'd left-strange but not much, that had happened last time. Once he reached the shore, he expected to see Wirt standing there beside him, soaking wet and maybe smiling without sorrow now. That would be nice. Greg thought so.

But when he turned to look around for Wirt in the pond or anywhere in the vicinity, there was no sign of his brother. Not even in the water, floating or sinking, Greg checked and re-checked again. Wirt wasn't there. It only meant one thing, and Greg felt a sob, one of many he had forced down while saying goodbye because he refused to cry then, come up in his throat.

Wirt hadn't come back from the Unknown.

**Wirt's POV: **

There was nothing. He was sitting in the creek still, with the others staring at him. Staring with wide-eyes, even the Woodsman was staring, completely not expecting this. Glancing next to him, Wirt saw that Greg wasn't there. Greg was gone; Greg had gone back home and he hadn't. The first feeling was of utter despair and concern, wondering why he hadn't gone back, and what had happened to Greg-what would happen to Greg? Why wasn't he back?

It was better to scream in his head. Wirt had learned of this the first time he'd been held back. Screaming in one's head conquered the fears a little, tiny bit and made life more bearable until it was time to scream out-loud. All of this…all of this had been for nothing, nothing at all! He clenched his hands into fists. Perhaps the Beast was gone, but he hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe not having to endure so much pain, maybe staying as the Beast's vessel would have gone over better.

"This is what it came to. After all that time I spent hoping it wouldn't…" The Woodsman spoke for the first time since they'd come down to the creek. He had a face full of pain from what Wirt could see from his wet position. Beatrice had longing and horror etched all over her features. Wirt wanted to tell her it was fine, that this was a mistake, he would go back, but he knew now, he wasn't meant to.

"You're…Wirt, get out of the creek. You'll leak through all of those bandages." As if they weren't wet already. But Lorna still came forward and pulled him out, reaching for his hand while his arms refused to lift from his side. "Come and sit up, Wirt."

Painfully maneuvered into a sitting position, he now stared around at all of them, knowing he was very wide-eyed and probably scared looking. Beatrice came right up to him and put her coat around his shoulders, and then they all turned to look at the Woodsman, who stood right in front of Wirt.

"H-what did you mean?" Wirt didn't care if this sounded rude, he was shaken up by the man's statement.

"Having been inhabited by a creature from the Unknown…I calculated that this would happen because the Beast leaves its mark on you no matter who you are. And if you're a lost vessel…the Beast would not want you to leave the place of your suffering. You are tied to these woods, young man. Forever. And that means you cannot go anywhere else, ever. You are like us now, but not, for you may grow to be 20. But that is about the age I give you at stopping because it doesn't seem likely. I'm sure you will grow but…not for long. It is something in the air here, once you get here, you never grow for long. Not that we have grown from our ages before. But we mature. It is part of living in the woods."

"It's … mark…" Wirt could hardly speak, but he choked out these two words before shaking his head to clear it. "I just…"

"You're here now, Wirt. Come inside, let's switch those bandages and then we can talk more." Beatrice pulled him into standing, and he leaned heavily against her. The other two led the way to the house again.

Wirt was feeling utterly helpless. Greg was now without him forever. He was stuck here, in this place, this place of horror and sorrow and pain. It may yet remain such a place for him, too, for a long while. Even though he feels somewhat grateful for getting to stay with Beatrice, this made Wirt feel guilty because now Greg was without him. His parents were without him. Everyone whom he had ever known in his world had lost him. What would they think had become of him? Was he at home? Or was he still in that pond on the other side of the wall? For he remembered little but that, and for some reason he didn't think he was still in that pond. Did he have a body outside of this one? Was this even his body?

The multiple questions of such an existence made his head swim. It didn't seem fair at all. What had just happened was the opposite of fairness, in fact it was so bad that he didn't want to think about it. What was Greg going to do?

**Greg's POV: **

He called Wirt's name several times, just to make sure his brother hadn't gotten out of the water and already gone over the wall. Or maybe he was just waking up in the hospital! That was something Greg hadn't thought of! Taking Jason in the crook of his left elbow, he pulled them both up and over the wall and into the graveyard. Once they were dusted off and a little more able to stand up, Greg started running, still holding Jason. The frog croaked in anger at him, but he shushed the creature once more. They couldn't stop if they were going to find Wirt.

There was no one in the room when Greg arrived after explaining to the lady at the desk that he was in an very dangerous position and needed to see his brother. Jason hopped on into the room, but Greg almost didn't want to look in. His heart was full of fear. As he had run back to the hospital, he'd started thinking about what might happen if Wirt never came back. The world wouldn't go normally, things wouldn't work out, would they? They couldn't, because Wirt wasn't there.

The motionless body. And the sudden shouts coming from all directions. Greg didn't manage anything but to peek into the room and what he saw made him stand there absolutely dumbfounded.

The pulse was gone. The body was motionless. Wirt wasn't back. Wirt hadn't come back. Why hadn't he come back? The doctors were running around, trying to help him. A sob lifted in Greg's chest as a woman came out and shut the door immediately, paying no attention to him. Maybe they could bring Wirt back…but Greg knew better than to think that.

Wirt was still in the Unknown and what was left of him here-which admittedly made no sense to Greg as to how something could be left _here_-was left. Wirt was not coming back. They hadn't brought him back. He wasn't going to come back.

With a small sigh, Greg began the walk home after exiting the hospital. He was too scared to truly think. There was no way this had happened. Why was this happening? And while to some it may sound stupid, and Greg had no doubt it did, he wanted Wirt to come back and he half-believed Wirt was back-but not nearly enough. Because he knew as well as anyone that Wirt wasn't back, and Jason and him had been left to fend for themselves in the world.

**A/N: Well….okay then. I'm not sure I enjoyed how that ended very much…I need to finish chapters better sometimes…But wait!-For it is not over! You might drag another chapter or two out of me *shudders*! But I'm being truthful, I originally planned only one more chapter, but I think it may become two. So I'll be getting to work on that as soon as I can…and in the meantime, thank you for reading! This was chapter 18, as you know. I hope you enjoyed, and please, review, review, review!**


	19. Chapter 19: The End(?)

**A/N: Well. Here we are again. At the site of gloom and despair and heartbreak. But it's okay, right? I'm not…not even sure what this is…ok. The reason I put a question mark at the end of this chapter title is because, well, is this truly the end for everyone? I think not, even if this is the end of this story. Or this part of it all. Maybe there is more to write. (Though if that happened, it would not be soon, probably a little while from now.) I don't know. Who truly knows what the end is? (Okay I'll stop getting all existential just in case some of you have existential crisis a lot or just moments of those sorts of things, which I have had so I do not feel like destroying anyone's life right now.) **

** Shadowfang14: hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe I told you I had plans. Look at what I've done. Can't wait to see what your reply to this is. **

** Polydactyly Zodiac: Oh because I'm completely twisted and downright insane. And the whole smiling thing well…maybe we're on the same boat with insanity. I have no idea. You probably didn't smile while reading it. (Now the question is: did**_** I**_** smile while I **_**wrote**_** it? I … I don't remember. Probably when I thought of what the readers would say.) **

**Also…it's a bit of a confusing twist right here. In fact it's so different from anything anyone may have imagined ever being because well this whole freaking show just doesn't deal with the real world and I just feel that maybe this could be a possibility for Greg. I mean we don't know. He's just a small child in the show. Who knows what the future could bring? **

** Onward.**

** Greg's POV:**

The bread was soon in the cabinet: the last of the groceries placed where they needed to be. Whistling a little tune, he closed the door to the aforementioned cabinet and gave a wipe of his hands on the towel, and began to make his way out of the house. The sun was shining down, it was a very bright autumn morning and he was beginning to enjoy himself thoroughly. Sometimes all it took was getting last night's shopping items in their correct places and then everything seemed alright. Angel was waiting for him at the car door with her doll in her arms. She was proud of that thing, quite proud, and Greg took pleasure in the fact that she was so happy with it. It gave him something to believe in every day.

"Come along, honey, it's time to go to the library." He gave her a gentle smile and opened the door of the car, offering her a hand in. She took it like a princess and stepped into the car, and seated herself to be fastened in the booster seat.

After making sure she was set, Greg took his own seat at the steering wheel and started the car, all the while humming the familiar old tune that was now stuck in his head. It was the sort of mellow tune that didn't bring too much energy into working it all out but it was still excitable in a very strange way. It wasn't until Angel started calling his name that he snapped back into true reality; and by now they were already on main street and heading downtown.

"Daddy?" She sounded desperate.

"Yes, Angel?" He didn't look back but he could see the look on her face without looking: it was a head craning thing that was happening and she was no doubt unblinkingly looking at the back of his head.

"Where is-"

"He's at the library. Don't worry, honey, he's fine." Greg gave a nod to reassure her because he wasn't risking taking his eyes off the road. Alex had called early to let him know he was going to be late, but to take Angel anyways.

The rest of the short ride was reasonably quiet and once he swung Angel out of her seat and handed her the doll again, Greg found himself breathing deeply. It had been a few months since Alex had been back after being deployed-once again he found himself wondering how he'd ended up dating a person in the military, even if that person did just fix engines on helicopters, but Greg had tried to work that out countless times and it still didn't work. So he lived with it, because it wasn't just dating, at this point in time, it was an actual marriage. But Alex hadn't wanted Angel to be scared by the planes or really anything that was at the military base he would come in from, so Greg had been told to meet him at the library. This was absolutely fine, of course.

They stepped in and were greeted by Samantha, the youngest librarian in the entire building who had made quick friends with the four year old toddler who was clutching his hand and at the same time trying to grab Samantha's. Greg made quick eye contact with her, and gave her a nod.

"Angel, let's go say hello to your friends!" Samantha was brilliant with kids and to prove his belief and point even further, he watched with a small smile as Angel followed the dark haired woman off to a separate corner in the library.

Greg wasn't just thinking about Alex right then-although he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone. There was a constant fear of someone, any of them, for Greg that someone would never come home. It had started when he lost Wirt…and it had never left. There was always the question of what Wirt might have thought to see him as now, with a family, a real family, living in a completely different town not far from where he grew up, and as a part time worker who also acted as the stay at home dad when he was off for Angel. Because if Alex never came home one day, Greg would lose his mind and he knew it. Angel was too young to understand and he didn't want her to ever have to. Sure, Alex would go out of the military one day, considering all he did was fix things, but at the current times with him constantly everywhere, it was extremely stressful for Greg. The fear was gnawing at the back of his mind as it had been for the few hours he'd been awake this morning.

Mrs. Smith, the main librarian who basically ran the entire place, nodded to him with a pleasant smile as she walked past with a cart of books. Greg realized he'd been just standing there for almost five minutes now and a few people were looking at him a little strangely, but most just minded their own business. Clearing his throat a little, he set off for a table and sat down stiffly. And he sat, stiffly. It was nearly 11; only a few remaining minutes till the promised time arrived.

11:10. That's what Alex had promised, at latest. Angel was still over in the far corner, but Greg could-once again-feel her looking over at him every once in a while. She had known that "Papa" was going to be home soon. He had only told her a few days ago and since then, that was almost all she had talked about. It was obviously a need, and it was fine with him. Talking about the person he was missing most at the moment was almost the easiest thing imaginable, and while it was weird (normally, wouldn't it hurt a person in that situation?-he wasn't sure) he enjoyed it. Angel clearly loved it as well, and Greg had had such a hard time getting her to sleep last night that he was unable to sleep himself, lying awake for hours. He knew that it showed below his eyes.

Maybe he even looked like a raccoon. The thought made him chuckle, as he was suddenly reminded of a distant moment in the past when a raccoon who could walk on two feet wasn't so strange at all-and a twinge of distant pain went through him. Sometimes the Unknown was the place he missed the most, which was weird. A few years before, when Alex and he had first started dating, he'd told Alex all about it. The thing that struck him the most was that Alex believed him. People hadn't, not when he was younger, and not as he got older. All through his teen years he had to try and convince people he had lost his brother to a horrifying place. He had begun studying anything that could give him a clue as to what the Unknown was so he could prove it, but the closest thing he ever found was the word purgatory. A place where the dead were held: in a limbo between life and death. Not a single soul believed he had made it to and from a purgatory, especially not twice. But he knew he had, because hadn't Wirt's soul stayed and his body died?

His parents had only believed it was a tragic accident, and his mother was of course the most distraught, Wirt had been her child. Of course, his father was upset, but his mother never truly recovered. Now they lived together still, but still they did not believe his theories and his stories. And it hurt him so much…so very, very much…because he knew Wirt was not completely gone. Wirt was still there.

These thoughts just made the pain worse and he forced himself out of them. He wasn't going to be in a horrible mood. He was waiting on Alex, who would come back. Greg had to have something to hold onto, and that something had mostly become his small family.

"Thinking again?" A deeper, familiar voice entered his ear. He realized he'd had his eyes closed, and he opened them in an instant, to see Alex standing there with a grin on his face, but his blue eyes spoke of something else, of relief and joy.

Greg shot out of his seat and wrapped his arms around Alex's shoulders, pressing his face into the slightly taller man's chest. For a few minutes all he was hearing was the heavy breathing of someone who was doing his obvious best not to cry. It was almost a joyful sound to his ears, just hearing Alex breath for the first time in months. Then it was time to break apart, because a small tug on his shirt told him Angel had arrived.

She was scooped up into her Papa's arms and flung around and then brought back down again so she could wrap her small arms around his neck and hold on tight. Greg found that he couldn't stop smiling. It was always this way, the reunion was so carefree and eccentric and full of joy. Alex looked over a small head at him, and gave a smile.

"Shall we head on home?" He said this with a courteous grace that Greg shook his head at and nodded.

"And you can tell Angel about the people you met all the way there." Walking past them, he gave a gentle pull on Angel's long, curly golden hair. Alex followed him, and he could hear the whispers being exchanged. Angel appeared to be hardly able to contain her excitement.

The ride home was full of laughter and giggles from Angel as Alex made fun of some of the officers he had dealt with on the ship and talked of the food they were fed, which Greg always found disgusting and Angel took joy in how disgusting it was. She was laughing her little head off even as they let her loose in the yard and she ran around in circles. Sometimes Greg wondered how she could act so much like he did at that age-not that he remembered much of being four, it was just from being told about it countless times-and not even be his own child when it came to terms of blood. Alex often blamed it on just having him around.

They walked into the house, hand in hand and Greg was quickly swept up by Alex's mouth on his; forgetting everything for a few minutes. Angel hadn't come in yet; she was probably talking to the dog that was kept outside most of the time, so they had a few minutes to be completely lost in each other before they had chance of being interrupted. The interruption, instead, didn't come like it sometimes did and Greg took the chance to talk to Alex alone for at least a moment.

"Welcome home, love." It was said with a tiny smile, and Alex shook his dark haired head in almost denial.

"It's been a long six months. She's grown quite a bit. Good to know you kept everything in check."

"Well it isn't easy. I'm just glad you made it home…"He trailed off a bit at this, lost in Alex's eyes and lost in his own thoughts.

"Don't think about that right now. We can talk about it later, if you'd like."

He gave a brief nod as Alex gave a gentle squeeze of his hand and they stood there for a few more minutes, not speaking. Angel suddenly came bursting into the house, and tried to hug them both.

"Jason glad you back, Papa!" She was talking about the dog, and Alex bent down to pick her up.

"I'm glad to hear that, darling. Should I go talk to Jason?" He inquired, and she gave a nod. "Well I guess we're going to check on Jason."

Giving a small wink to Greg, Alex walked out of the kitchen and back out the door again with Angel in his arms who seemed to be giving him a run down on how her dolls were doing in her fragmented sentences. Greg smiled and then turned to sort through the bag of stuff Alex had brought in with him, which was made up of mostly clothing and other things. They could do laundry soon enough. It would be nice as well if they could get things unpacked faster, but Greg knew very well that Angel took up too much time to have any time left in the day to do anything like that.

Alex had been right to ask if he wanted to talk about it later, though. It seemed reasonable anyways. It was nearing that time of year again in which Greg heavily had the thought of Wirt on his mind. Fall was always a rough season anyways, and Halloween was one of his least favorite holidays: had been, ever since he was a child. Ever since they'd fallen into the pond; and it seemed like some horrible anniversary every year since. Now at least he had someone who could take care of him better than his parents had every year when it came around. Alex, for the past five years, had made sure to talk about it and then allow him whatever he wanted. A bit of pampering maybe, but it worked and Greg was rather relieved he was able to get his mind off of Wirt when the pampering was going on.

Not to mention that they had been lucky Alex was never deployed when fall came around. He was always home before anything really started for Greg. It felt like whoever controlled that schedule had done that almost accidentally, but it was a good accident and one Greg wanted to keep repeating.

Once again here he was standing and thinking about Wirt. It didn't do one much good. The pain had indeed lessened, Greg observed, but it was still a sort of longing, a feeling of missing something. He had tried to write to Wirt before, when he was 10, but it hadn't worked. All he knew was that Wirt was still out there, like he'd said, like he'd thought, because he felt that connection. Wirt was still there in the Unknown. And at least Alex believed him about it.

Alex returned almost half an hour later, with Angel still outside. Apparently she was entertaining Jason, which clearly Alex found adorable. Greg saw that there was no hiding the enjoyment he had gotten out of that. At least she was entertained. Greg had been sitting at the kitchen table staring pointlessly at his phone for the past few minutes after giving up on thinking about anything else and Alex was the one to drag him up and out of his chair and to pull him into yet another hug. This one was much longer, though, and involved more conversation.

"I'm sorry…I almost left you alone for this time…they were going to keep me but I convinced them. I knew what would happen if I didn't," The whispering began with Alex, "I told them you suffered without someone there to help. That it was actual, serious depression… and I know it is, darling, I know it is. That's what I was trying to prevent…I'm sorry I almost lost it all right there, but I didn't tell you. I couldn't."

This was indeed news to him, but Greg could only choke back a sob. It was almost too good to believe, that anyone, anyone would sacrifice such a thing for him. Alex was the only person he ever knew who would have done something like this for him. And of course he would, because he genuinely cared.

"That's…Alex…I…" There were no words for the feeling in his gut.

"It's okay, hon. I get it…It's hard to believe, isn't it? But I had to…they understood. And you've only got a part time job…but the pay check will still come."

"Thank you." He whispered, and gripped Alex tighter to him than he thought humanly possible.

"I love you."

They broke apart after almost ten minutes, and then Greg pulled him in by the back of the neck into another kiss because he didn't want to start crying like a baby and have to explain it to Angel. That would be too hard anyways. The girl didn't take "it's nothing" for an answer and she was only four.

Alex's lips were rough and coarse and yet that didn't put him off. It was always how they'd been, and it was a comfort to Greg. Only once they were finished and Alex had pulled him into the den to sit on the couch did he dare to speak. Something about the way Alex was so sincere about all that he had done convinced Greg that there was another question on his own mind.

"What would he say now, Alex? What would he say? I wish I knew…"

"I'm sure he'd be happy, Greg. For you. If he has any sense, he's already and has been. For everything you've done…don't feel remorseful now. That's an old question." Alex looked over with a bit of amusement on his face. "You haven't questioned that since we were dating."

"I have no idea what he thinks, Alex. And I hardly have a way of ever knowing. But something about you makes me realize he would be okay. And something about myself makes me realize he's fine now…I do worry about him. But he's Wirt. He survives everything."

And in that moment, as Greg sat there on the couch with his hand gripping Alex's and the sounds of Angel shouting to Jason in the backyard and the feeling of Alex's head now on his shoulder, Greg felt completely confident that Wirt had somehow sent this wonderful man into Greg's life as the person who would always come back to him no matter what happened to make up for what had.

**A/N: *tries to breathe through the absolute pain and stress and relief of this all* Well…ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, that is indeed your ending. Wow. One whole entire year and a few months later or so. Alas, I could not write what happened to Wirt because it wouldn't come out in any sort of good form, so yes, I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger as to what Wirt's life was like so be open minded: what happened to him in the Unknown after he was left there can be assumed to be what most say when it comes to this sort of story (where he lives with Beatrice and is happy aside from missing Greg) or maybe something else happens, I don't know. Think creatively. (Oh my god I don't know why I made that reference I don't I just-) **

**(Before I continue) –IF YOU ARE GOING TO BE HATEFUL OR HOMOPHOBIC OR PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING IN THE REVIEWS, PLEASE DO NOT, I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOU HORRIBLE PEOPLE MESSING IT ALL UP FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE JUST HERE FOR THE STORY AND AREN'T HORRIBLE PEOPLE, ANY HATEFUL REVIEWS WILL BE IMMEDIATELY REPORTED- I hope you truly enjoyed this long saga of insanity and that you will thank me for writing it or give me something to use in the future for future stories or perhaps you think all of what could be from this fic should be and that I should write more from some of the context in this story-whatever floats your boat in a review is fine with me. Thank you all for reading and please, review, review, review!**


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